


Flash Fire

by MarbleHeart



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Anxiety, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Comforting Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Cuddling & Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Consent, Exposure therapy, First Time, Fluff and Angst, Getting Together, Guided Meditation, Hair Washing, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Love Confessions, M/M, Masturbation, Mindfulness Techniques, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pyrophobia, Sensuality, Sexual Roleplay, Supportive Aziraphale (Good Omens), Tender Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2020-09-27 00:51:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 40
Words: 233,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20398969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MarbleHeart/pseuds/MarbleHeart
Summary: Demons were all about fire, death and decay, right? Well, not this one. Not anymore. (Maybe not ever, but especially not anymore)(AKA Another One Where Crowley Is Generally Very Fucked Up From The Book Shop Fire/Thinking Aziraphale Died [But Don't Worry, Aziraphale Helps Make It Alright])





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally I had the intent of writing the whole fic out before I published it (admittedly in the past I've had a very nasty habit of not finishing chapter fics which is why I tend to lean heavily on plot/feels laced porn oneshots when I write), but it's been about a month since I started and it just keeps expanding itself (excluding this one I currently have 6 chapters that vary in completion level from fragments to about 75% of the way finished) and I really just can't hold back anymore so I'm just gonna put my foot down here and start.
> 
> Thank you for reading! There's a TL;DR at the bottom with some thoughts I have about the series and some context behind why I'm writing this/  
I'd love to meet and chat to other fans of Good Omens! I've just set up a Tumblr for the first time in like 1000 years, you can find me over there at [cocolinears](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> I'm a Midwestern American who is making a half assed attempt to Britpick my writing, so there might be some weird stuff here and there. I also have no beta, so any mistakes are all mine!

The way it all kicked off was like an errant spark hitting a puddle of crude oil. Kind of ironic, really. It hadn't bothered Crowley yesterday, Armageddon Day. Not when he had to drive his poor Bentley through hellfire, when he was standing across from Aziraphale's reclaimed flaming sword... not even when Satan Himself had appeared, bursting from the depths of Hell, along with all the fire and brimstone one would expect of Him. Nor had it even bothered him earlier this same day, when he'd stepped into the vortex of hellfire, wearing Aziraphale's face, in order to play his part and save them both.

No, and it was odd, now, to think back on it, none of that had bothered him at the time. He was too swept up in the adrenaline and tunnel vision, eyes set on trying to avoid the impending doom, completing that only to be embroiled in the ensuing chaos of the two of them being hunted and executing their body switching plan. He'd been running around like a horse with blinders. He hadn't had even time to _think_, and that was the whole problem. The fear hadn't crashed down on him and manifested itself until he slowed down. It hadn't had a chance to take its cruel grip on his heart. Instead it chose to lie in wait... emerging from the calm of the aftermath and attacking him when all should have been well.

They were in the middle of a celebratory meal at the Ritz when a patron at another nearby table ordered a dish that was wheeled out on a cart, ready to flambe at the table. Crowley hadn't been paying attention whatsoever until after the match came out, having been sat back casually in his chair listening to Aziraphale talk. He noticed out of the corner of his eye when the struck match was being lowered to the food, immediately setting it alight, and also setting off a time bomb that he hadn't realized had been ticking all this time.

However, his reaction wasn't outwardly violent. It wasn't overblown and obvious like humans tended to exaggerate such things in their Hollywood movies. He didn't shout. He didn't loudly hyperventilate. He didn't rock back and forth. His hand simply tightened against the tablecloth, at first... and that by itself was enough for Aziraphale to notice something was wrong, immediately halting his chatter about possible plans for the future, to ask him if he was okay. But he sounded so far away, suddenly. Crowley couldn't hear him properly. He began to feel a bit sick, beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck and in his palms as he sat, eyes transfixed by the flame.

Immediately he was rushed back in time, just one very short blip of time, to Aziraphale's book shop. It was almost as though he could feel the flames licking at him and the soot staining his skin. He could still see it, even if he closed his eyes. Even if another six millennia passed, he thought he would never get that sight out of his head. And the _smell_. Go--Sat--fuck, _SOMEBODY_, the smell. Hundreds of books up in flames, the overwhelming stench of smoke, aged paper and a hint of ink. Even if somehow the sight of it all got away from him, he was sure that smell truly never would. It was the smell of Aziraphale's death.  
  
A cool hand placed itself on top of his, then, and somehow the feeling cut through all of the machinations of his panicked brain enough that he felt it, even if just a little. Normally he was the cold one. He could never get truly warm, damned cold blooded snake that he was underneath it all. But right now he was burning hot, or at least felt it, just like the pillars of flame he saw in his mind. The weight of Aziraphale's hand wasn't enough to break his trance, but he was _aware_.

He was also aware of the _stupidity_ of it all, a _demon_ being afraid of fire, which only made it worse. And then thinking about it _literally_ made it worse, and he started feeling a tightness in his chest, like there was a rubber band around his torso, cutting into his skin at the same time as he felt like he was losing his ability to breathe. The fact that he didn't actually _need_ to breathe as regularly as a human couldn't register right now. It was a purely psychological problem, not a physiological one... he _believed_ he couldn't breathe, so he couldn't. He _believed_ that was a problem, so it was. Rational thought as a concept existed light-years away from where he was right now, seized by panic. He _wasn't_ human, but his corporeal form and his brain and their mutual disconnection were almost making him think he was. And then he began to fear discorporation. Death.

The two of them had basically flipped the bird to their respective sides, and it would be a massive undertaking to talk his way out of that and get another body if something happened to him. Actually, it was a vain hope to even have that idea at all. It was far more likely, almost an absolute certainty, in fact, that he would simply be destroyed, and there would be no more of this. No more dinner dates at the Ritz, no more quiet afternoons in the park together, he would just be dead. Completely. He would never see Aziraphale again. He felt like he was having a heart attack, and the sensation was only getting worse as his thoughts continued to spiral out of control.

The slight glow of the candles sat upon the other tables _had_ made him feel a bit edgy and dizzy, made the base of his skull itch, but before this moment he'd put that down as residual nervousness from the events of the past two days. The candle flames were small, controlled. The flame that had roared to life upon the other diner's food was far too similar to the chaotic licks that he'd witnessed destroying the book shop, and thought had killed his best friend. And that was really the crux of the situation, wasn't it. It wasn't about the bookshop itself, not really. It was about the total, all consuming fear that Aziraphale had been killed.

Was it... really only yesterday?

Another cool hand was touching his face now, cupping his jaw, trying to soothe him, causing another short ripple in his awareness. He heard Aziraphale calling his name again, but he still sounded so far away. His body was practically completely covered in sweat now, clothes sticking to him, but he still didn't move. Couldn't move, really. All he could do was watch that damned flame, dying down now, and sit there in that chair, feeling like he was going to die too.

All of it had only lasted a mere moment in reality, as much of the point of a flambe seemed to be the fact that it was a rather short spectacle, but it still felt like an eternity to Crowley. When the fire finally dissipated completely, the rumble of the room, the sound of conversation and dinnerware clinking, slowly began to creep back into his ears, overwhelming him just that bit farther. But then one of Aziraphale's hands was on his back, slowly massaging between his shoulder blades. Grounding him.

"You're going to be fine, dear. Breathe, Crowley." He could finally hear him, then, although it sounded a bit like he was underwater, the lingering jitters in his mind and the too loud noise of the room muffling him. His serpentine eyes slid over to look at the angel's face, at last, and instantly he felt a wave of guilt. There was a slight haze over his features from Crowley's inability to focus properly right now, but he could tell Aziraphale was trying to be a pillar for him and hide his worry. He shouldn't have worried him when they were meant to be celebrating. It was his fault the angel was wearing an expression so unfit for what this was supposed to be.

He didn't know how it happened, but suddenly he looked up and the two of them were standing outside the hotel, a few feet away from his Bentley. He looked at it dully, trying to hold back the memory of the burning wreckage it had become at the airbase. It was fine. It was here, and it was fine. He'd had his moment about that, how had he already forgotten? And then, from somewhere in the fuzzy space around him, a hand tugged at his. A hand he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Had Aziraphale led him out here?

Oh, _Aziraphale_. He was also here. He was also fine. Crowley reminded himself of these facts over and over, hoping it would help him get his wits back. It did, to a point. That and being away from all the noise inside made it so he was able to focus enough to actually clearly look at the angel again for the first time in what felt like forever. The worry still creased his brow, but his smile was calmer now. He looked like he was expecting an answer, but Crowley hadn't heard the question. "Sorry?" He asked, voice a bit weak and raspy. Not a whole lot unlike it had been when Aziraphale had appeared to him in the pub. In this case it was progress, though.

Aziraphale smiled at him again, patiently, and he was clearly pleased to see a bit of motion toward normalcy. "I asked if you'd allow me to drive you home. I know how you are about your car. And you've just gotten it back..."

Crowley just nodded dumbly, entering the car when Aziraphale opened the door and sliding into the passenger seat with a bit of his assistance, a calming hand on his back. He would've definitely argued normally, but he was too tired right now. Fatigue was setting in. It made sense... being so on edge and having bodily processes working on overdrive would certainly do the trick for that. "I am, you know. Er, sorry." He managed to say, nervously, once they were both inside the car and buckled in. The guilt from ruining their evening was there again, and he still felt a bit edgy.

"Don't, Crowley." The angel said softly, reaching over to pat his leg reassuringly before starting the car and fiddling with the seat a bit so he was more comfortable to drive, adjusting the rearview to his liking as well. Aziraphale didn't drive often (could probably count the number of times he'd done it since he'd learned how on one hand), but when he did he was definitely the very picture of a safe driver. It was why he always complained so much about Crowley's driving, although for some reason he still kept getting into the car with him. The thought made Crowley smile, even just a little. It was something nice to hang onto while he tried to come down off of this spike of panic.

"It knows the way." He said simply, watching as Aziraphale's hand returned to his leg after he'd started the car. Tentatively, he reached out to nudge it up enough to slide his own hand under, releasing a held breath and some of the tension out of his body when the angel laced their fingers, sliding his thumb over the side of Crowley's hand comfortingly.

Another indeterminate blackout later and the car was parked in front of the building that housed his flat, Aziraphale gently shaking him by the shoulder. Had he actually fallen asleep, or had he just zoned out again? He couldn't tell, but he was glad everything was quiet now, even if he missed the steady pressure of the angel's hand over his. He nodded, mostly to himself, and exited the car carefully, taking a quick glance around. It was only very early evening now, but the area seemed to have already settled for the day. Or at least for the moment. That was probably a blessing. He didn't know how much disturbance he could take right now, afraid he would spiral back down into the bottom of that pit he was still trying to claw his way out of.

Aziraphale was beside him, and this time he actually felt the angel take his hand to lead him toward the door. He laid his other hand on it, and the lock disengaged. He took note of the questioning look he got from the angel, and despite himself he chuckled. It was slight, and weaker than normal, but it was still encouraging. "Kept forgetting my keys. I told the building to remember me, once. It only took just the once." He said, squeezing the other's hand as he actually took the lead, walking inside with him to stand near the lift. "Come up with me?" He asked, and Aziraphale gently nodded.

The lift ride was uneventful, save for the fact that he'd made himself comfortable slumped against the angel's side, immersing himself in the mechanical feeling of the pulleys working, and he definitely felt it the moment he moved and their heads touched. When the doors opened he was tempted to just stay there, even if it meant having to ride the whole way back down and then up again, but Aziraphale made him move. Crowley repeated the same stunt with his actual flat door, that he'd done on the ground floor, pulling the other inside behind him before quickly closing and latching it back. He was back in his own domain now, and that did wonders to help him ease back down some more.

They both removed their shoes near the door, Aziraphale lining them up neatly. It was amusing to see him like that, considering the haphazard state of his bookshop. Crowley quickly pushed that thought out, though, as it threatened to call everything back again and hurl him off the cliff, right back where he started. He shook his head, taking his sunglasses off for the first time since The Thwarted Armageddon to set them aside on the counter so he could rub his eyes.

He didn't seem to notice it, what the gesture was and what it meant to Aziraphale. The last time (which had also been the _first_ time, coincidentally) Crowley had taken his sunglasses off in front of him, he was well sloshed. It took him being that drunk to let his guard down that much, even in front of his dear friend. He clearly knew (but didn't know if Crowley _realized_ he knew) what the demon used the sunglasses for. They were always there, firmly kept in place, as a shield to help protect him from the world, and keep things well within his realm of control. He could hide behind them.

But right now he was just exhausted, honestly. Didn't have much of a brain to think with... but he feared actually trying to sleep at the moment. He looked up at the angel, who'd been steadily watching him ever since they entered the room, and gestured toward the kitchen behind him. "Y'want some tea?"

"Oh, thank you. I'll brew it for us. Have a seat, darling." He said, moving past Crowley to gather the items he needed, peeking over his shoulder to see that the other had done as he'd bid him to. He'd never actually been fully inside the demon's living space, having turned him down the night before, and when they'd switched faces today, he hadn't _inhabited_ the space so much as gone inside for appearances and spent his time reading near the door for a few short hours until they were meant to meet back up in the park. He was sure that Crowley wouldn't have minded if he'd gone in, but it had felt wrong to investigate while he was on his own in the other's flat. Curious as he was about it all now, wanting to explore, he knew Crowley needed him first.

In normal circumstances Crowley would've teased him for not simply miracling the tea up, but with his brain fried, and considering what they'd just gone through in Heaven and Hell respectively, maybe it _was_ best to lay low and do things the long way. At least for the moment. It wasn't like Aziraphale would likely mind, anyway. He'd always said some things were worth doing the long way.

A few moments later, Aziraphale was sitting next to him. A warm cup had been pressed into his hand, and he stared at it for what felt like a long while before taking a drink.

But after he'd had the sip, he'd taken to staring at Aziraphale instead.

It was a wonder that he could still look so composed with a vortex of conflicting emotions swirling inside him. Not that the pretense fooled him. Crowley couldn't sense it, exactly, but he didn't need that ability here. He knew him well enough to be able to tell.

There were so many things he wanted to say, but right now his brain wasn't working well enough to put them together coherently.

So he settled on the easiest of the bunch.

"Thank you."

The angel politely waved it away. "Don't mention it, dear. I'm perfectly happy to make you a cup of tea!"

"S'not what I meant."

But Aziraphale's expression said he knew that from the start. "You don't need to thank me, Crowley. I appreciate your gratitude, but it's not necessary. My making sure you're alright is just as much for my sake as it is yours."

Unable to respond with anything he felt was worthy of the sentiment, Crowley simply hummed, pulling his feet up onto the sofa as he moved tentatively to lean against Aziraphale's side.

He found no complaint, which emboldened him enough to lean in with his full weight, breathing deeply as he tried to embrace the calm. They drank their tea like that, cups set aside on the stand next to the sofa when they'd been drained.

After a while, though, Crowley began to ache for something slightly different.

"D'you mind... lying with me?" The words came out so lightly he was almost unsure if they actually _did_ come out. If he was being totally honest he was a bit afraid of everything right now, but most of all he was terrified at the thought that Aziraphale would reject him again. That for some reason he'd become put out by nurturing him and decide he'd had his fill. That he'd leave. He couldn't stand it if he made him leave. Despite everything,_ 'I don't even like you!'_ and all the other lingering chaos from that scene still echoed in his rattled mind. The anxiety pulsing through him was making him focus on everything that had gone bad.

Aziraphale's eyebrows raised, probably at the somewhat forward nature of the question, but nevertheless he answered with a shake of his head. He figured Crowley probably hadn't even realized what he'd said. "Of course not." He said, rising and moving to take a look around the dimly lit hall. For a moment Crowley wasn't sure what he meant by that, until he added "Your room...?"

"Here." Crowley replied, scrambling up behind him and taking the angel's hand to lead him down the hall, tugging him a bit pointedly when they walked past the still cracked open door of his office (although if you asked him he'd probably rather call it his throne room), the pile of clothes and melted plastic that used to be Ligur and that bucket of holy water still laying in the doorway.

But Aziraphale wouldn't be deterred that easily, to his great dismay.

"Crowley, is this...?" He said, moving closer and easily batting back Crowley's attempts to thwart his investigation. He touched the clothes, finding that they were wet, and suddenly his face hardened a bit, carrying into his tone. "Stay back."

The tonal shift and the oddity of it was enough to make Crowley obey, shrinking back to stand against the opposite wall. "Wha...?"

The angel didn't reply to him until he'd finished cleaning up, miracling the space clean again and checking, a few times more than was necessary, that every drop of the liquid was gone. He bit the inside of his lip when he realized what he'd done. So much for trying to abstain and do things the long way. He'd moved to perform the miracle without even thinking... he just wanted to keep Crowley safe. The important motivation meant he quickly moved past berating himself for slipping.

He turned back to look at the demon, confusion, irritation, and perhaps also some concern lurking beneath his surface. "Holy Water doesn't just... go off, Crowley. Just because it was... used, doesn't mean it can't still hurt you. This whole time, you could have..."

"Was careful, when I poured it out. Wore gloves and an apron. Used tongs to handle it. Just hadn't had time to think about cleaning up the mess yet. Stuff was happening so fast." He told him, eyes roaming the now spotless floor. "This _is_ what I actually wanted it for, Angel. Never lied to you about it. Even back then, I knew one day I would do something that was just that little bit too much for the Dukes to stomach. Or they'd lose their patience... think I was taking too long or get suspicious I wasn't doing what I'm told. Finally come to 'check up'. Always knew someone would come for me eventually."

Assurance that Crowley hadn't been messing about with something so dangerous, especially after he'd been so sternly warned, seemed to mollify the angel, but he still frowned at the ideas swirling in his head about what had happened to create this scene. "So, that really was..."

Crowley nodded. "Ligur. Nasty piece of work." He told him, not offering any more information than that, (_especially_ not the fact that Ligur was himself a Duke of Hell) instead gently grasping his wrist to pull him away again, and this time Aziraphale let him. They entered Crowley's bedroom, the demon wasting no time in crawling up into the center of the king sized bed, a giant mass of mixed grays and blacks with the bedding, to lay his head on one of the pillows and curl in on himself a bit; a leftover reflex from his time as a snake. The sight tugged at Aziraphale's heart. He'd never seen him so fragile as he was today.

The angel shed his jacket and vest, draping them over a chair at the side of the room, before moving over to slide into bed next to Crowley. Gentle arms wrapped around his back, pulling him into a soft embrace, and the demon wriggled in close, settling with his head against Aziraphale's chest, listening to the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat.

That, the steady hum of power he could feel from under the other's skin, and the hand stroking circles at the point where his hidden wings would meet his body did wonders to calm him just that much more. _Finally_, he didn't feel as if he were in danger of freaking out again. How could he, lying here so comfortably, feeling so protected in these arms? It was very difficult not to be 100% certain in this moment that Aziraphale would never let anything happen to him.

Somehow it gave him just enough courage back to ask for what he wanted. "Stay, Angel."

"My dear boy, I doubt I'd be deterred from doing so even if you tried to kick me out right now." The answer satisfied Crowley, and the room lapsed back into silence.

He almost would've thought Aziraphale had fallen asleep if he didn't know better.

But he spoke up again after a while. "Are you... alright to talk about it?" The angel asked gently, and Crowley thought he might implode from the way his heart was swelling with love for him. He was an angel, he was meant to be gentle. But this was something else entirely. A level he'd never seen firsthand despite knowing Aziraphale since literally the beginning of time.

"Dunno." He admitted, shifting up a bit to bury his face in Aziraphale's collarbone, breathing in his scent. He smelled lightly of coffee beans and chocolate*, and it was oddly like coming home. Crowley's eyes were only open to slits, and he looked exactly like what he was; a tired snake.

"I'm not going to push you, darling. That would hurt more than help." Aziraphale said, the rumble of his voice pleasant to Crowley's ear as his head rested against him. "Just... know that you have no reason to be afraid to talk to me, nor to be embarrassed of what pains you. I'm not going to judge you. I've been on earth just as long as you have. I've seen... well. It's not my first time, in any case."

Crowley considered it a moment, biting the inside of his cheek lightly as he tried to tamp down that little stab of guilt that kept threatening to overtake him. From the way Aziraphale had said it, his past experiences dealing with trauma of this type had left a mark on him. The demon felt badly that he'd added to that. Nevertheless, or perhaps because of that, he felt he owed it to his angel to tell him the truth... or at least try. "I'm sorry I ruined it. You deserved to celebrate properly after everything that's happened..."

"Don't you dare." Aziraphale told him, sternly, wrapping him up tighter with a huff that would've amused Crowley to no end under normal circumstances. "You didn't ruin anything. You didn't _choose_ to have a panic attack, Crowley. Stop apologizing for things you can't control. I won't hear it. No more of that."

Ah. So he _was_ aware of _exactly_ what had happened at that table. "It was the... fire. I saw that waiter light that fire and then I was back in your bookshop. Saw your _home_ burning. Smelled the books. It all played in front of my eyes like it was happening all over again. I knew you were right next to me. That you were fine. I _knew_. But that part of my brain conveniently disconnected from the rest when that flame lit. All I could think about was the fact that you were gone, and I was too late to save you."

Realization seemed to dawn on Aziraphale, as if he'd just clicked the final piece of a puzzle in place. "You were... there, when it burned?" He'd thought Crowley had found out after the fact, not that he'd... actually been there. A wave of what felt very much like dread washed over him then. He was almost afraid to hear what the other was going to tell him next.

"I couldn't... feel you. For six millennia I always knew vaguely where you were and that you were okay. Whenever you _weren't_ okay, I would come. The Bastille, The Blitz. All of a sudden, poof. Completely gone. It was like... I had a line to you for 6000 years and suddenly that line got disconnected. For the first time ever it felt like I was really alone. With an apocalyptic war looming. Whatever was going on, obviously it couldn't be good. Your presence lingered in the bookshop, so I went there to see what was happening... and I drove up to it burning. I couldn't find any trace of you, couldn't sense you _at all_, and your shop was completely engulfed... I can't tell the difference between normal fire and hellfire, if I don't see it start. Neither hurts me, physically. Couldn't tell you why. But I was sure it _had_ to be hellfire. Didn't even consider the alternative, really. Thought someone had... killed you. Not a simple discorporation, _totally_. You'd been there since the beginning of time, and suddenly you weren't. To me, it felt like a part of me had been ripped away. Like losing an arm. I didn't..." He trailed off, hand fisting in the back of Aziraphale's shirt. It took a few breaths for him to steady himself before continuing.

"I didn't want to live in a world you weren't in anymore. So I just took the book and left. I still don't know _why_ I took it. At first I called it something to remind me of you, but what did that matter? I stopped caring about anything the second I stepped out of the shop. Maybe, knowing how it all turned out, it was a cruel joke that got played on me. 'The Almighty is all knowing' and all that bollocks. If so, She knew it was gonna happen, and just... let it."

Aziraphale normally would've chastised him for blaspheming, asked for him to be forgiven, more out of habit or a sense of duty than an expectation that it would actually happen, but he was so invested in what Crowley was saying that the thought didn't even cross his mind. "I drove away, completely zoned out. Barely gave a shit enough to put on another pair of shades after the ones I was wearing got fucked, but I didn't want anyone to look at me. _Especially_ then. Looked up and I was in front of that pub you appeared to me in. Planned to drink 'til my body couldn't cope and I discorporated or the world ended, whatever came first. Fuck the apocalypse, eh? What was the point of trying to stop it when that world had already lost the only thing I actually cared about saving? I do like my life here on Earth, but... what I like most about it is _you_, and I thought you were _fucking gone_. That might as well have meant a part of me was already dead too. Hell was positively seething, and once you're in that lot's bad books you're in for good. They'd eradicate me if I discorporated, but I didn't care. Was probably what I wanted in the first place, dunno. All I _do_ know is I couldn't stand the idea of being without you."

A heavy silence fell as the weight of Crowley's words settled into both of them. Aziraphale didn't reply. _Couldn't_ reply. What could he possibly _begin_ say to that? Crowley had just laid bare the very worst of his pains... pains running so deep that even without actually examining them closely with his deeper senses they had physically stung him, just in the plain words alone. It was a lot to take in all at once.

It seemed he'd played his part in making an even bigger mess of things than he'd initially thought. So he simply lay there in the quiet with the demon, trying in vain to comfort him with the steady movement of his hands, unable to do much more than that for the time being.

_'Thank you for trusting me'_, he wanted to say, but the words stuck in his throat. He felt so guilty it was almost overwhelming. Crowley had gone through this horrible trauma because _he'd_ been so careless.

He just hoped the touch of his hands could convey what he couldn't right now.

After a while, out of the stillness, perhaps disappointingly absent of any of the fanfare one might expect from such an admission, and accompanied by little more than an unsteady sigh, the other shoe finally dropped.

"I love you, Aziraphale."

It was an event millennia in the making, and it seemed like the world stopped turning around them for a moment. Like the universe had paused to watch the long awaited moment unfold.

Aziraphale's sharp intake of breath scared him at first, and he started to tense up, but then the angel's forehead was pressed against his, and that made him forget everything else. "Oh, Crowley. My Heart, I know. I mean, I already... I've... known for a while. Or I... had an idea, at least. Before all of this." He admitted, giving a watery smile despite himself and glancing away for a moment, but his eyes returned to Crowley's face soon enough.

The brand new, never before used endearment, and the way his name had come out _inside of a sigh_ tinged with _so much longing_ couldn't have possibly escaped the demon's notice.

"I may seem a bit slow, when it comes to such things. Angels weren't intrinsically designed to love anything more than anything else, I think. We're supposed to love everything... though I do suppose the Almighty did later define the different _types_ of love. Perhaps angels that have come along after me have a better understanding of it from the outset, I'm not sure. You always have said I'm old-fashioned to a fault." He paused, smiling to himself as he thought of the many, many times Crowley had accused him of such.

"Anyway, the point is... I haven't been completely in the dark about it, despite how it might have seemed. There are definitely things I'm oblivious about, but I'm not an idiot, Crowley. Ah, damn... I'm sorry, love." He added, reacting to the stiffening of the other's muscles as the turn of phrase brought up the centuries old memory of their only other real fight and made him bristle. He hurried to raise his hand to palm Crowley's cheek, running the pad of his thumb over his snake tattoo as he smiled fondly at him. So fondly that it was almost physically painful.

Coincidentally, that touch, there, was just the balm he needed. It near instantly made him forget the surge of anxiety he'd just had, as he couldn't help now but be distracted by whatever this was that was blossoming in front of him. Distraction wouldn't make anything go away, but it would help him feel better, for a bit.

"I had a tiny hint of what _I_ thought about _you_... back at the Bastille, probably. I didn't allow myself to give it the time of day any earlier than that, and even then I didn't. Not really. It was just a little seed planted at the back of my head. I mean, before that it had been a little pinch here and there. When you showed up before the Flood, clearly distressed over the idea the children would die for the sake of the Great Plan... it didn't fit at all with my conceptions of what a demon should be. I started... paying a bit more attention to you after that." He cleared his throat, cheeks tinted pink as he hurried to continue, to change the subject and gloss over it, trying to ignore the tiniest of smirks playing on Crowley's lips despite everything.

"I didn't get the full scope of how I felt... or think about how _you_ might've felt, at all, until you saved my books from the bomb, though. Absolutely, if I had to say, that was The Moment. You swept in, saved me, _and_ saved my books. On consecrated ground, burning your poor feet for me, no less. But you had _no_ reason to save the books, _except_ to do it for my sake. That was when I took the time and _really_ entertained the thought, for the first time... that I might be in love with you. That little seed sprouted, and you might've even _seen_ it if you hadn't had your back to me. I've no idea what I looked like in that moment, but I suspect it was probably written all over my face."

Something like regret spread over his features then. "Since then I've done a lot of fighting with myself, and sometimes I must admit I took it out on you. For that I am _truly_ sorry, Crowley. I don't have words that will properly articulate that. Nothing is strong enough. It hurt me to rebuff you when you asked me to run away with you, and I said things I didn't mean. I was afraid... of a lot of things. I thought I was helping you, that you'd be better off that way, angry with me. And that maybe I'd also be better off that way... if it meant we could actually manage to be what we were _supposed_ to be. It was always a ridiculous notion, to be in love with my enemy. But nevertheless... I was. _Am_. It feels like it's taken me eons getting around to accepting that fact. And now, when I've finally worked it all out, we're suddenly... well, free agents. Not enemies. It's ceased to matter at all. We're really on... _our_ side." Curiosity bit at his ankles, as it was always wont to do when the deliverer of the Original Sin was involved, and he couldn't help but indulge himself this time. "When was it... for you?"

"Eden." The reply came instantly. Crowley hadn't needed to think about it at all. The speed and the nature of the answer stunned Aziraphale as he looked into those yellow eyes, a softness around their edges like he'd never seen before. "That was when _you_ planted the seed. Been at least a bit mad for you ever since then." His voice was soft now too. "You spoke to me, which was my first hint you were different. Angels don't talk to demons like that... knowing what they are. Even more so back then. Was all new and things were so fragile. There were a lot fewer of both of us then, and it didn't take much more to Fall in those days than asking the wrong questions or mixing up with the wrong lot." He shook his head, getting back on point. He might have to unpack those feelings one day too, but today wasn't that day.

"You told me you gave away your sword, and I think about half of me fell in love right in that instant. The way you reacted to me and what I said to you was so unlike anything I'd come to expect of an angel. You did so many unorthodox things, even at the beginning, and yet you remained in Her good graces just the same. You were truly remarkable to me from the jump. About the time you..." He lifted his arm briefly, moving it over his head to mime the moment Aziraphale had shielded him from the first rain. "I think it was pretty much decided. I was arse over teakettle. But it took me a long time to figure out how to put a name to what I was feeling, since, y'know... demons don't fall in love, and I'd lost touch with basically everything from before I Fell. Being in love should've been impossible for me. But I've always been sort of a shit demon, haven't I? Even from the beginning. Spent about 6000 years wrapped around your little finger, and you didn't actually realize it until the last century. Would've thought it'd register at least a little bit after the second time I _conveniently_ appeared to save your arse." He had to laugh a little at that.

"You _absolute_ bastard." It was a bit rare to hear the angel say such a thing; Crowley's own bad influence had brought it into being in the first place, or at least he thought so. But Aziraphale's tone was playful and the smile he wore carried into it easily. "You had me playing the damsel in distress this entire time." Crowley feigned a scandalized look, and then dared to lean in to place a feather light kiss to the tip of the other's nose, pleased when a flush was left in its wake. "Well, for a bookish type, you do have a knack for getting yourself into trouble." He said matter-of-factly, thinking of all the incidents Aziraphale had somehow gotten mixed up in during their 6000 year acquaintance.

"And besides, you're not innocent yourself, y'know. Don't pretend you didn't bait me into doing your bidding at least a few times. Really, how _obvious_ could you be? Used your bloody _twinkling eyes_ to get me to make Hamlet a hit, and then the whole tantrum you had about that stain, for example... _that_ was so damn forward I was almost impressed." He said, giving a knowing look and settling smugly as Aziraphale floundered to come up with an excuse for either of those incidents and lost that battle. "I did think I might have _finally_ overdone it with the stain. It was the most overt I thought I'd ever been. When I saw the way you looked afterwards, I thought you might call me out right on the spot." He admitted.

"Nah. Haven't you figured it out yet? I indulge you every chance I get. I've spoiled you, for sure. Always liked making you happy. Got you back by putting you against the wall though." Crowley grinned, now seeing that moment through fresh eyes. With the sudden act, he'd knocked all sense out of the angel, and given the luxury of retrospect, it was pretty telling how he'd been more occupied with staring at Crowley's lips than offering any sort of resistance at all. Especially considering the vehement insistence he'd had toward the whole 'hereditary enemies' concept. "I wasn't actually angry. I just saw the opportunity and took it. Bit of posturing thrown in for dramatic effect."

Another pause, though this one was a lot shorter than the last one. Crowley was careful, normally, in choosing his battles with the topics of conversation he would bring up, but right now that was turned up to 11 with the extra cortisol going through him. "You... cried, didn't you. After we fought. I felt the despair in your heart, when I was walking away... just a blip, but it was there." He didn't mention how it had instantly felt like he'd had ice water thrown over him, and how much it made him want to turn back, to apologize, to confess...

"It _was_ very painful. Especially since, well... all this time, I didn't actually feel the love in your heart. You know it's part of an angel's kit, being able to feel the love in a being's heart. But it's not a thing demons usually possess, so why would I check? There are probably forces at work that would keep me from seeing it, regardless. But then... out of nowhere, I _could_ see it. It was there, and I'd never felt so stupid. I felt it pinch and tear and become raw around the edges when I told you that I didn't like you. And then it flickered away just as fast as it came."

The angel sniffed, obviously still struggling with the way he'd treated Crowley. The memory of it was hurting him, and Crowley pulled him closer into his embrace. Emotions were running high, too, which surely wasn't helping. So it was his turn to comfort a little, it seemed. He couldn't say he minded, exactly. He wasn't nearly as good at it as Aziraphale was; couldn't be, really, and especially with the state he was in now, but he'd certainly give it a shot. Perhaps he was a Fallen angel, and hadn't done it for ages. But that didn't change the fact that they were originally made of the same stock. He probably had it in him if he tried.

"It wasn't all your fault, Angel. I've said some stuff I shouldn't have, too. Stuff I'm _so sorry_ for. But I do want you to know... no matter what I said, not for _one_ instant did I stop loving you. There's no way I could really... just go off to the stars and forget about you. Now that I think about it, the whole thing was really a lot like an extended, stupid, human breakup, huh." Crowley grinned, the corners of his eyes creasing. There was a lot of conflict going on inside his brain right now, and everything was all jumbled up, but above everything else, he needed to make sure Aziraphale knew how much he meant to him. For his own sake, and the angel's as well. He wasn't going to fuck this up again. "But we truly _are_ on our side now. You and me against the world. Against the universe, even. We don't answer to anyone. We can go off together and do what we want and there's not a damn thing anyone can say or do about it. We're... free."

The concept was a lot more difficult for Aziraphale to get used to, but despite that, he nodded his agreement against Crowley. "Being a free agent is going to take me some time to reconcile." He said, hand sliding idly up and down the length of Crowley's back. "But I _do_ want to be by your side. It's _our_ side. It's not over. It was never really over."

Those words were precisely what it took to make the residual stress melt out of Crowley, and he relaxed completely against the mattress. "I was... really hoping you'd feel that way." He told him lowly, his gaze betraying the rest of what he felt but couldn't exactly vocalize. The needling anxiety and fear he'd had that Aziraphale would leave him now that everything was over, the fact that he didn't want him to stay out of pity, all of it.

The pure vulnerability in it showed just _how much_ Crowley trusted him, and the angel couldn't help but be moved. He felt his heart tugged again, and he moved his hand up to thread it through copper hair, gently scratching at the back of his companion's head as he smiled at him with all the fondness he could muster. "There's nowhere in this whole universe I'd rather be, Crowley. I'm afraid you're quite stuck with me from this point, even more than before. Where you go, I go."

A lazy smile appeared.

"How 'bout Alpha Centauri?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *I've decided Aziraphale wears a cologne called A*Men because of course he does he is so on the nose it's stupid
> 
> I watched this series last month and I love it with all my heart, honestly. It was so well produced and just... everything about it is right up my alley. And to top all that off the general message of the creative staff that 'this is a love story' really just makes me so happy. I'm ace myself, and by my interpretation of them Crowley and Aziraphale also fall somewhere Aspec (in general I tend to want to place them Demi personally but I can see so many interpretations of them working and that is amazing) so to be able to feel like there's some sort of representation here is just lovely. The fact that the actors are so supportive of the fans and community is also so heartwarming. As a Doctor Who fan I loved David Tennant before this, but omg Michael Sheen, I don't know what we did to deserve such an absolute king! Every chance he gets he's like 'btw Aziraphale loves Crowley' and I love it. I think we should probably just outright declare him captain of this ship if we haven't already collectively done so.
> 
> I haven't read the book yet but I'm seriously thinking about picking it up because I just totally fell for this universe and the ineffable husbands. As with most of my writing prompts, this one just flew out of my head one day and it was such an interesting concept to me that I wanted to try and tackle it. I have GAD myself, and I've only ever had one full blown panic attack so far, but that's the place in my life that I was drawing from when I wrote Crowley here, especially the scene depicting his own attack. I'm certainly no expert, just basing things off of my own experiences! It's been a few years since I had that incident, but writing this was still sort of therapeutic, in a way. 
> 
> I'm going to throw a hard attempt at putting out a chapter each week until it's finished. Be sure to let me know what you think about it so far, since comments really help motivate me :)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was fine enough to lie in bed with him and talk, that had been deceptively easy. He'd never seen himself as an open person, necessarily. He supposed, though, there were a lot of qualities Aziraphale brought out of him that were like that. 
> 
> But sitting here with talking about his feelings being the entire point of the exercise was something different. He struggled a bit with the concept. How did people just... do this on purpose? How was he even supposed to start? How far was he supposed to go? All the way, he guessed. But could he do that? Was he strong enough?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got so l o n g it's honestly ridiculous. I'm not sure whether or not I should be sorry. I hope you guys enjoy it! As always, I appreciate comments! You can also shoot me a line @ [cocolinears](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/) on tumblr! From this chapter forward I'll be making posts about this guy to hopefully help more people find it who might like to read it.
> 
> All that being said, here's where we bring in one of the main plot elements! Enter newbie Mind Healer!Aziraphale. My version of 'mind healing' is a lot like therapy/counseling. Basically, it's a WHOLE LOT of talking about stuff but with a little supernatural twist added to it. It's actually kind of hilarious bc during our last session I consulted MY therapist for advice on writing this. Picked her brain to see how she would go about treating someone like Crowley, and I'm doing my best to use what she told me. Admittedly it was sort of hard to write that part of the chapter (I had mental fatigue from hell tbh), but part of the reason I decided to write this fic was to challenge myself, so hopefully it comes across well!

It had been just over a week now since the Notpocalpyse, and Aziraphale had been by Crowley's side almost the entire time. Today was the first time he'd slipped out, under the guise of going grocery shopping, and he went down to Soho to see about the bookshop. Maybe say his goodbyes to it. It had been his home for a couple of centuries, didn't it deserve that much?  
  
He'd asked Crowley about it when they met in the park wearing each other's faces, but he couldn't know for certain the path his love had actually followed that day. 'Not a book burned' could have been a lie, but he wouldn't have blamed him if it was, knowing what had festered inside of his mind. Wasn't like he could ask now. He wouldn't willingly risk waking that beast again for _anything_, let alone something that small.  
  
But it seemed it was true; it _had_ been fully restored when Armageddon was averted, and that _presented_ a bigger problem than it _solved_.  
  
He knew better than to try bringing Crowley 'round right now. It was all still so fresh for him. Exposure might help him eventually, but that surely seemed like an advanced step. It would likely only hurt him more if they didn't start to treat the trauma itself first. How they were going to do that, he didn't know yet. But he'd put his mind to it and figure it out for Crowley's sake.  
  
He walked amongst the shelves and cluttered tables for a long time, running his eyes and hands across many of the precious covers he'd thought to never see again.  
  
He spent a long, silent moment regarding _that_ area of the floor. The one that had been home to that damned circle. Cursed himself again for that crucial mistake. He couldn't change it, but it still gnawed at him.  
  
But in the end, as usual, he ended up in that one certain nook. Soon enough his hands were wrapped around a hot mug of cocoa, and he sat at his desk, taking a moment to himself to let everything sink in.  
  
Being alone felt a bit odd, now. It used to be his default state, until very recently. The two of them would do their song and dance of meeting up, but in between that, this was just how it was. He couldn't say it really bothered him much before, for various reasons.  
  
He wasn't sure if he cared for it much anymore, though, if he was being totally honest.  
  
Being in this part of the room had him thinking about getting drunk with Crowley, that night in 2008. Coming to terms with the fact that Armageddon was finally on its way. The planning, the scheming...  
  
It was sort of funny. He didn't think Crowley had been more snake-like at any point in their history than he had been that night, even when he _actually_, physically _was_ a snake. As he looked at the sofa across from him now, he could easily see those eyes, wide and staring at him. The slight sway in Crowley's body, as if he were trying to hypnotize him. It was more likely that it was just an anxious movement.  
  
But, well... either way, he supposed it had worked. He'd gone along with it, after all, hadn't he?  
  
The handshake had been the snake's strike, in that case.  
  
That all seemed so long ago, now. Even if 11 years really meant nothing to someone who had lived for 6000.

But that_ particular_ 11 years almost felt longer than the remaining 5989, if he had to say.  
  
When he found that his mug had been emptied without him realizing, it startled him back to the present day.  
  
He'd just started to wish that there was something, somewhere in this jumbled mess of a library, that might help the present situation, when he turned in the chair and his arm bumped a book he hadn't realized was there.  
  
It seemed there were more new additions to be found than he'd first thought.  
  
He immediately collected the book, scrutinizing the cover. It seemed quite unremarkable, really. There had been no attempt made to make it stand out, and yet it had... he couldn't help but feel he should take it back with him. If it had jumped out at him like this, there had to be a reason.  
  
As he gathered a few more books, these ones for pleasure reading, his mind returned to the conundrum still lingering from earlier. What _was_ he going to do about the shop?  
  
It put him in an odd place to be forced away, because, ultimately, he felt like he had a duty there; as much as he had treated it like an afterthought over the years, closing when he felt like, not actually making attempt to sell any books... for some reason it still nagged at him that he should probably open the shop. Perhaps it was obligation poking at him more than anything else. Maybe it was something _he_ needed to do for closure. He knew he was going to have to attend to _himself_ at some point, too.  
  
Crowley still very obviously needed his presence, though. It was also doubtful that he could even discuss the possibility without accidentally triggering a nasty reaction from the other.  
  
Whatever he decided to do, it would take a delicate touch.  
  
He was still pondering it when he walked back into the flat in the late afternoon, having spent much more time out than he'd intended to. He held a bag of food supplies in one hand and the bag of books (he had a somewhat elaborate story prepared in case Crowley asked about them) in the other. He barely got into the door when he heard it.  
  
Crowley was yelling.  
  
"You _know_ I have higher expectations of you than this! Get your shit together, all of you!"  
  
A great confusion took hold of the angel, and he moved over to set his bags down on the counter, face scrunching as he began to follow the sound of the other's voice. It was coming from an area of the flat he'd stayed out of so far.  
  
"If any of you die, you'll regret it!" The voice barked, much closer now, and it took Aziraphale a bit off guard to hear him like this. And the things he was saying were just... odd. No other way to put it, really.  
So when he rounded the corner, he didn't know what to expect.  
  
Of all the options he could've come up with, though, none of them were near as ridiculous as the reality playing out before him: Crowley menacingly skulking around a room full of the most gorgeous plants Aziraphale had seen since Eden, plant mister in one hand and trimming shears in the other.  
  
It didn't seem he was pruning the plants with the shears so much as threatening them with them, though.  
  
"Anthony J. Crowley, what the Hell...?"  
  
He'd wanted it to come out in a scolding tone (he could count the number of times he'd used the demon's 'full name' on one hand, only using it when he _really_ wanted to rile him), but he couldn't help bursting into laughter at the sheer absurdity of what he was seeing.  
  
He watched Crowley's movements hitch from behind, and that dramatic little addition certainly didn't help him stop his giggling fit. "Angel?" He said, glancing over his shoulder then quickly turning on his heel and crossing the room to gently push at Aziraphale. "Right. Out."  
  
The blonde managed to calm after they'd exited the room, wiping at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand and stifling residual chuckles as they tried to come out. "What in God's name are you doing?"  
  
Crowley's hand gestured vaguely into the air. "Minding my houseplants."  
  
"Minding your houseplants." His face twisted as he fought another little war to keep himself from laughing.  
  
"Got anxious while you were gone. Couldn't sit still. Realized I hadn't tended them for a while." He said it very simply, and it sounded innocuous enough. However, it didn't mesh at all with what Aziraphale had witnessed in that room.  
  
Now he actually had gotten enough of a handle on himself to scold Crowley for real, though. "Terrorizing your plants _isn't_ a coping mechanism!"  
  
"Hn? I don't _terrorize_ them. I _encourage_ them to grow better. Heard about talking to plants back in the 70s."  
  
Aziraphale was gobsmacked. It seemed like an ass pull of an excuse, but he could tell Crowley was serious. "...wait. This isn't _new_?"  
  
Crowley shrugged. "Always raised my plants the same way. Well, minus the whole 'not tending them for a week' thing. Not like me, that."  
  
"Well, a lot has happened. I'm sure they forgive you."  
  
If Aziraphale didn't know any better, he could've sworn he saw Crowley flinch.  
  
"I don't want them to. They just need to grow properly." He grumbled, turning around to take Aziraphale's hands in his. "Look, I'm sorry I kicked you out like that. Can't have 'em see me soft, y'know?"  
It was a great irony to behold, the way his face softened as he said it.  
  
"Oh, I'm sure they wouldn't believe the ruse. _You_, soft?" He teased, squeezing Crowley's hands. "Are you in for a quiet evening, love? I've got some new books I'm eager to get into."  
  
"Sounds good to me. Did you get what you wanted from the shop?"  
  
Briefly, Aziraphale had a flicker of worry rise up, but then he remembered. The food. That was what Crowley meant. "Yes. Yes... I got what I needed." He supposed those words could carry a double meaning, since he'd gotten some things he needed from the visit to the bookshop as well. Not that Crowley would understand the nuance behind the statement.  
  
"Good. Listen, er... would you be okay with me cooking you dinner today? I'd like to."  
  
Aziraphale's surprise was clear, but his expression quickly melted into a soft smile. "I think that would be lovely."  
  
Crowley nodded, resolute. "Okay. You... go get started on one of your books, and I'll have it done as soon as I can."  
  
Part of Aziraphale wanted to ask if he could help somehow, but something was telling him that Crowley wanted to do this by himself. It was funny... he hadn't even known that the demon had taken up cooking.  
  
He supposed he'd never really asked, though.  
  
He scooped up the books and moved to the sofa, but his attention was quickly stolen away from choosing one by the activity in the kitchen. He watched from afar as Crowley set about prowling around, collecting various bits and bobs from the cupboards. An apron appeared, pulled from somewhere under the counter, and Crowley tied it loosely around his waist. Then he moved to surrepititiously peek into the bag of ingredients that Aziraphale had brought home.  
  
Apparently what he'd found was to his satisfaction. The idea practically bloomed on his face.  
  
Aziraphale really couldn't help finding him adorable, like this.  
  
Even as he shuffled around and cursed under his breath. Perhaps _especially_ when he did that.  
  
By this time he'd cottoned onto the fact that Aziraphale was watching him instead of reading. He'd tried to ignore it for a time, but eventually he turned his gaze to directly look at the angel. "Oi. I thought I told you to read. Quit gawking."  
  
Actually, no. _This_ was the top spot on Aziraphale's list of cute things he'd seen Crowley do. He didn't even know if the other realized he was doing it, but he was pulling off one Hell of a pout.  
  
The angel's face couldn't have looked any less than 100% amused when he finally acquiesced. "Alright, alright. I won't admire the lovely chef any more than I already have." He said, laughing as the demon started to bang around the kitchen with renewed vigor.  
  
He could see him flitting around in his peripheral vision as he turned to finally look at the books he'd brought back from his excursion.  
  
Though it was an obvious choice, he didn't want to go straight for _that_ book, though. He could study it later. Maybe when Crowley was sleeping.  
  
Instead, he settled on one of the other books, plucking it out of the bag. This one was a novel that was fairly new in comparison to most of the other books he had knocking around the shop. For some reason, the title of _this_ book had been popping up in conversation again, lately. People had been asking about it, here and there. He hadn't yet gotten 'round to reading it, despite it having been out for a couple of decades now, but perhaps it was finally the time.  
  
The cover of this one was only _slightly_ more exciting than the Odd Book. It was a dull grey. A curious but foreboding looking throne loomed in the foreground, and in dark blue letters, it bore the title: A GAME OF THRONES. Written by... George R.R. Martin?  
  
Oh.  
  
Aziraphale had definitely heard stories of this author, before. He'd reached a decent level of notoriety for taking forever to write his books. Time didn't normally mean much to Aziraphale, but it definitely did when it concerned a good book. Humans only lived so long, after all. It almost made him reconsider the choice after all. He hated it when he found a series he really enjoyed, and it never got finished for one reason or another. It was a gripe he shared in common with many of the humans that would come to his shop trying to buy his books.  
In the end, though, he did keep it.  
  
It was actually sort of hilarious _how deeply_ into it he'd gotten by the time the kitchen had gone still.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
Crowley's voice slithered to his ear, closer than he'd expected, and it made him look up over the top of the book. "Hm?"  
  
"Time to eat." He told him. He'd been trying to call him for a couple of minutes now. His eyes flicked down to the book in the angel's hands. "Oh, shit. Game of Thrones? _Really_?"  
  
Aziraphale's head tilted as he marked his place and set the book aside. He'd never known Crowley to read, really. "Why does _everyone_ know about this book?"  
  
"It's a TV series, now." Crowley hummed, returning to the kitchen to retrieve Aziraphale's plate.  
  
"I find myself enjoying it quite a bit. Perhaps I might like to see the series, as well."  
  
Crowley gaped from across the room. He could count the number of times he'd seen Aziraphale watch TV on precisely three fingers. "Holy shit, that's a high compliment."  
  
"This man has a reputation of being a slow writer. It worries me. His writing is good, so it worries me _more_. The treatment of the women leaves quite a bit to be desired, however."  
  
Crowley snorted. "The show won't improve your perception of things much, I don't think."  
  
Aziraphale deflated a bit at that. "That's disappointing."  
  
The demon's laugh was barely stifled. Clearly he was amused by the whole thing. "Here. Eat." He said, handing the plate over.  
  
The angel took the plate from Crowley, and on it, he found a somewhat large section of a very delicious looking shepherd's pie. "Oh, my. It looks Heavenly, darling."  
  
"Of all the words you have in your head, it had to be that one, didn't it." Crowley sputtered, sliding into the sofa next to him.  
  
Curiously, he had a plate of his own, too.  
  
He'd never known Crowley to eat much, but it was nice to be able to sit here and bond with him over a genuinely _shared_ meal when it was usually only him that ate anything.  
  
They continued their conversation as they ate, Aziraphale's pleased murmurs and other assorted outbursts of appreciation peppered throughout.  
  
After the plates were cleaned, they were miracled spotless and sent back to their places by a lazy, full of food Crowley. He'd already settled in one of his most coveted spots at that point, with his head in Aziraphale's lap, and he didn't want to move.  
  
He flicked through his phone as Aziraphale went back to reading, occasionally nudging him to show him something stupid he'd come across.  
  
A hand buried itself into his hair, stroking idly through the strands, only leaving very briefly to turn a page every once in a while.  
  
At some point during the evening, under the spell of the relaxing touch, he'd dozed off, phone laid on top of his chest. Aziraphale carried him to bed somewhere around midnight, settling in beside him to continue his reading there. This time he'd brought _that_ book. He could tear himself away from Westeros long enough to do some studying while Crowley was sleeping.  
  
Sleeping had nearly always been one of Crowley's favorite pastimes. He did it quite a lot. Until recently, he'd used it mostly when things got boring for one reason or another. In lapses between seeing Aziraphale, sometimes he'd challenge himself to see how long he could sleep, continuously. He made it into a game of sorts for a while.  
  
But one time he fucked up and slept for an entire century. He quit trying to one up himself after that. That was too much time to miss. Too much could go wrong, and he'd never know.  
  
He'd gotten into something of a routine over the last 50 years or so, and after a while he developed a pretty regular sleep-wake cycle. It became very rare that he skipped sleeping at the end of the day. It was one of his more human qualities.  
  
Perhaps he'd always had a bit of a penchant for avoidant behavior, actually. It wasn't as new a development as it appeared to be.  
  
Aziraphale actually wondered at the odd inconsistencies in Crowley's mental fortitude. From the evidence, he should've been _avoiding_ sleep by now, frightened off by the idea of suffering the nightmares. Instead, he was seeking it out.  
  
But he'd been through a lot, so for the time being Aziraphale had decided to leave him be, letting him have his naps when he felt like. They'd been pretty frequent, but sleep did help with a healing process, usually. Eventually it would become prudent to wean him off of the dependency, but for now...  
  
For now, the night terrors seemed to be worth risking, for whatever he was getting out of it.  
  
As it happened, he was smack in the middle of one right now, close to the crest of the morning. It just hadn't quite boiled over yet.  
  
He saw Aziraphale's face, right in front of him. He saw him, through the bookshop window.  
  
Immolated support beams were crashing down, trapping him. Books were burning all around him.  
  
Try as he might, Crowley couldn't get in. Not through the door, not through the window. His snaps weren't doing shit.  
  
He clawed desperately at the glass.  
  
He bashed against it until his fist was a bloody pulp, and _kept_ bashing, but it just wouldn't break.  
  
The picture itself began to slowly burn along the edges, and no matter what he did, he couldn't stop it. It burned, and burned... until there was nothing left.  
  
Then he was in total darkness. He could hear the sound of his own voice, echoing.  
  
_Even if this all ends up in a puddle of burning goo, we can... go off together._  
  
_A puddle of burning goo._  
  
_Burning goo._  
  
_Burning._  
  
A violent burst of fire, erupting straight into his face from the black, ended it.  
  
Crowley started awake to the sound of his own screaming. "_Aziraphale_!" He felt that deep sting in his chest... the stab of loss, as if it were happening all over again. The idea of Aziraphale being gone... _completely _gone, and for good, swam through his head again. His eyes saw the ceiling in his bedroom, but it was out of focus.  
  
When it had happened for real... suddenly not feeling his presence, truly being alone for the first time since he'd crawled onto Earth from Hell's depths had been enough to break him completely. These aftershocks weren't as bad as that, but they were still damn close.  
  
"Shh... shh, Crowley. It's alright, love. I'm here. I've got you." The angel's gentle voice, somewhere above him, broke through the haze; like a cool wave sweeping over the flame that plagued his mind, extinguishing it again. He hadn't even noticed when he'd been turned, but Aziraphale was cradling him to his chest now. He was here. He was alive.  
  
He turned his face into the angel's collarbone, a meaningless gesture, because even if he could hide the tears running from his eyes, he couldn't control the way his body shook and shivered. It was just too overwhelming, all of it; the trauma, in the first place, that insisted on chasing him around and snatching him up again every single goddamn time he was vulnerable. The guilt he felt _every single time_ it reared its ugly head to come and bite him and Aziraphale had to deal with the aftermath. "I'm sorry." He said, voice frustrated and thick with the crying. He repeated it over and over against the other's skin like a mantra, hoping that one of them would stick and Aziraphale would forgive him.  
  
But of course, in Aziraphale's view, there was nothing to forgive. There never was, when it came to this. Crowley didn't do it on purpose. In fact, he'd probably give anything to stop doing it. "Shh, darling. It's alright." He repeated, also holding the hope that his words would break through sometime.  
  
As Crowley started to come down from the peak, Aziraphale turned him enough that he could still lay against him, but he laid on his back instead of his side. This position would give him access to Crowley's own chest, where he placed his hand against him and began to slowly clench and unclench his fingers, gently scratching at him through his top. The gesture is not a lot unlike the motion he always used when he'd fondly scratch Crowley's scalp, it was just on his chest instead. He'd discovered within the first couple of days that this helped the demon calm down faster, for some reason.  
  
That had certainly taken some experimentation. No matter what he did, it helped a little bit, but nothing else he'd tried before landing on this particular method had helped near as much.  
  
"Wuzzat book?" He found himself being asked, in a slurred tone. Crowley was probably grasping for a distraction, a way to bridge the gap as his mind became his own again.  
  
"Hm?" Aziraphale's eyes followed the path of Crowley's down to his lap, where there lay an overturned book that he'd forgotten he'd been reading. He'd dropped it the instant he felt Crowley's distress. "Oh. It's... it's a really old book."  
  
Crowley's expression said it all, and he didn't have to actually speak a single syllable._ 'I can see that. That's not what I asked.'_  
  
In response Aziraphale just sighed, picking the book up off of his lap to show Crowley the cover. It was written in a language that he couldn't read, but _could_ still recognize as something that he used to know. "It's a book about healing. I'm studying it."  
  
"Healing?"  
  
"It goes over various types of healing. But the main body of the text is about mind healing, specifically. I seem to have a... natural predisposition for it. I'm not sure why."  
  
The revelation distracted Crowley from his next question about where the Hell Aziraphale had gotten such an odd book from. "Is that why it always feels like...?" He trailed off, looking away. His brows furrowed for just an instant before his face softened again as he looked back at Aziraphale. "I start to get anxious and then you do something so simple, like hold my hand, and that just... helps it go away. I don't mean that in a sappy way, I mean... it _actually_ feels like something happens."  
  
"W-Well... yes. Probably. I've used it, a few times."  
  
"When were you gonna tell me?"  
  
Aziraphale faltered. He hadn't actually thought about it, really. He'd had intent to keep it quiet for another while. "I... well. Once I thought I'd figured out what I was doing. There are many factors and intricacies involved with it. I thought I could help you more by advancing my learning a bit before we'd sit down and actually do a session. As of now, I can temporarily banish the symptoms. But I'm... sort of nervous to use it often. I'm not even sure if it can, but I don't want it to stop working. I'd like to be able to get to a point where I can actually help you heal the traumatised parts of your mind, not just sweep the end result away for a little while."  
  
"You know the only way to really learn something is to practice, right?"  
  
"I know, Crowley. But this is _you_. I can't afford to make a mess of this."  
  
He received a somewhat weak, lopsided grin in response. "I'm _already_ a mess, Angel. Worst you can do is fix it up a bit."  
  
Aziraphale's face scrunched as he took a sideways glance at Crowley. He gave a little shake of his head, his mouth opened and closed again... the movement chain was positively brimming with hesitance. But ultimately, he gave in. "Fine." He sighed. He was nervous, and that was easy to tell. But then again, he'd _always_ been kind of nervous. It was basically a personality trait of his. Perhaps that was what suited him to help Crowley. He knew, at least somewhat, how he was feeling.  
  
As much as part of him might like to, he _couldn't_ put this off forever.  
  
The moment, as a whole, felt like the time he'd folded to Crowley's insistence that it was redundant for both of them to go to Scotland. The Arrangement had been in its infancy back then. He hadn't been quite so cooperative yet. But still, he'd agreed to the coin toss pretty easily, all things considered. He hadn't put up any _real_ fight, just like he was doing here. "We can do a trial session this evening, if that suits you. Would you be horribly offended if I drew a sigil on the floor?"  
  
A shake of the head and flippant shrug was his answer. "Do whatever you need to do, Angel."  
  
They laid in bed together for another while, and then went their separate ways. Crowley spent the next few hours finishing up his work with the plants from the day prior. He still threatened them plenty, but today he did it silently, with his eyes. Still got the message across just as well.  
  
By the time he'd decided to come out again, they were back to their normal selves. Vibrant, perky, and shaky. The ones that remained, that is.  
  
He put away the shears and spray bottle, carefully stepping from the room. Aziraphale wasn't anywhere to be found, but he could see an unusual light emanating from the direction of the living room. That'd be where he was, then.  
  
Nervousness slowed his steps. This all seemed like a huge deal, and it was making him jittery to think about.  
  
Inexplicably, he had an itch to go and find his sunglasses. He didn't, though.  
  
What he _did_ do was take a deep breath, forcing his legs to move forward and round that corner.  
  
Aziraphale sat in the center of the floor, legs crossed, upon a gently glowing sigil drawn cleanly on the stone floor with chalk.  
  
It was the Archangel Raphael's sigil. How he knew this... or more accurately, how he _remembered_ this at all, he had no idea.  
  
But before he really had time to consider it, he was beckoned to join the blonde, and he did so cautiously, lingering around the edge of the circle but not quite daring to touch or enter it. Something held him back, but it was an instinct thing rather than a trust thing. "It's alright, dear. I've made sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that the circle won't hurt you."  
  
Swallowing sharply, the reassuring words from this being he trusted like no other pushed him in the way they were meant to, and with a bit of trepidation he toed his way inside. He did a decent job of holding back the flinch, for the most part. "I'm borrowing some energy to make sure I do this right. In case it's something I only have limited tries at, I want each of them to be as beneficial as possible." Aziraphale explained, the voice pulling his mind away from intrusive thoughts of violent combustion. The angel helped him to sit down, and he mirrored the posture, unsure if it was necessary, but it felt like a good thing to do anyway.  
  
His mouth shot off by itself. "Seems like... you picked a good source. Raphael, yeah? Healing's his whole schtick."  
  
Aziraphale seemed taken aback. "How do you...?"  
  
How did he what? Know that? Remember? The answer to either was the same, so it didn't really matter. "Dunno."  
  
The angel shook his head. They could get back to this later, if need be. He had to focus, now. "Give me your hands?"  
  
Crowley offered his hands, and Aziraphale took them. Both of them drew in the same steadying breath.  
  
"Now, close your eyes for me."  
  
Crowley did, but his mind was still wandering.  
  
"Just focus on my voice. All you have to do now is let me in, love."  
  
That was probably going to be the easiest step of the whole affair, as far as Crowley was concerned. He opened himself to accept Aziraphale, and immediately felt warmth rushing in. It was comforting. It felt very much like being held by him.  
  
Everything went quiet, all of a sudden. All he could hear was the sound of Aziraphale's voice, talking to him. It sounded like he was inside of his head. "Good. I'm in." It was odd... it seemed like there were so many layers of his track missing right now. He hadn't noticed all the background noise knocking 'round inside his head until it was there one moment and totally gone the next.  
  
"Can you hear me?"  
  
Crowley choked down the feeling of bile threatening to rise. The seemingly innocuous turn of phrase had triggered it in him, dragging up images of a dreary pub. The scope of what they were doing here only truly hit him just then. He was really going to have to... discuss this with Aziraphale. All of it.  
  
It was fine enough to lie in bed with him and talk, that had been deceptively easy. He'd never seen himself as an open person, necessarily. He supposed, though, there were a lot of qualities Aziraphale brought out of him that were like that.  
  
But sitting here with talking about his feelings being the entire point of the exercise was something different. He struggled a bit with the concept. How did people just... do this on purpose? How was he even supposed to start? How far was he supposed to go? All the way, he guessed. But could he do that? Was he strong enough?  
  
"Crowley?"  
  
Realizing he'd gotten distracted and hadn't yet answered, he choked out a raspy "Yeah."  
  
"Ah, good. Now, I must make something abundantly clear to you, I think. You're in full control here, Crowley. I will engage with you, but _you_ steer the conversation. It's important that you try not to push yourself too hard. If you go for something before you're ready, you might end up hurting yourself more." At this point he had to stop and wonder. If Crowley had willingly told him all of that, before... what kinds of things would he share in this situation? He couldn't imagine things that were worse than that. _Deeper_ than that.  
  
"Fuck." He cursed, under his breath. He was wound up tight. Being in control of the situation was all well and good, and deep down he _did_ appreciate that, but he couldn't help but fixate on the fact that Aziraphale wasn't sure how many chances they'd get at this. It was nerve-wracking. He felt pressured, despite himself.  
  
"Shh, love. Take some time and try to be calm. If you jump in like this, you'll only get hurt."  
  
"Tch." Crowley clicked his tongue, forcing himself to focus on the slow movement of Aziraphale's thumbs as they brushed the backs of his hands.  
  
He immersed himself in the movement, so much so that his breathing eventually synced up with it. It made him feel... almost at peace.  
  
He could do this.  
  
"Right. Should probably start with the big one, yeah?"  
  
Aziraphale balked, despite his best efforts to remain neutral. Surely, jumping in at the deep end right off the bat was ill-advised. But his hands were a bit tied, since he had _just_ finished telling Crowley moments before that _he_ was in control.  
  
"Only if you think you're prepared to go there." He said diplomatically.  
  
He supposed he'd just have to handle the fallout as best he could if this went wrong.  
  
"I think it has to be this. No matter how much I try to stop it, it just keeps running over in my head. There's nothing I can do about any of it now. Neither of us can. It's the past. Not like we're time travelers. Can't go back and change it. Even so, it just won't leave me be. The dreams are... well, I guess they're nightmares, aren't they? The nightmares are just... they always end the same way. A fire ball."  
  
Aziraphale's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Fire ball?"  
  
"When I was... driving away. Something gas must have been exposed to the fire. It shot out, and... blew out one of the windows as I drove past it. At the time, I didn't have any reaction to it. But for some reason, that's what my mind keeps calling up to torment me."  
  
"It was raining, because of course it was. God and Her sick sense of humor. Something about seeing me suffer must be entertaining." He laughed, but it was dry. It said 'Fuck Her' without him actually saying it aloud.  
  
"Crowley..."  
  
The second little laugh he gave sounded somewhat unhinged. "The fucking car even got in on it. I'm sure it thought it was being cheeky, playing me _Somebody to Love_. Can you believe, as much as I adore that damned car, even _it_ turned on me. I really _was_ by myself once you were gone. I didn't really feel it in the moment, the weight of what that meant. Shut it off. Went numb. But I can feel _all of it_ now. Maybe that's the whole problem."  
  
Once he'd started talking, he found he couldn't stop. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing, he couldn't say. Maybe it was both.  
  
"After that went away, all I could do was hate. I hated _everybody_ and _everything_, but most of all I hated _myself_. I sat in that pub, hating myself for calling you stupid. Hating myself for not _listening_ to you. Hating myself for not being able to protect you. Hating that the _last words you ever said to me_ were 'I forgive you'."  
  
That little, pained exhale that fell from Crowley broke Aziraphale's heart. He stumbled briefly, and it almost made the angel want to call the whole thing off.  
  
But soon enough he'd returned to speaking, fingers curling tighter around Aziraphale's. "I'd said I was unforgivable._ I_ believed it, but you clearly didn't. When you said 'I forgive you', it was like your way of telling me I was wrong. It shook me in ways I didn't understand, and I ran away like a coward. Yelling things I didn't mean about how I was gonna run off to the stars and forget about you. As much as I hated 'I forgive you' being the last thing I ever heard from you, I probably hated even more that the last words _I_ ever said to _you_ were 'I won't even think about you'. It makes me want to vomit just thinking about it, even right now. Just barbs I used to protect myself, but even now I can't believe I turned them on_ you_. I was the stupid one. How could I just _leave it_ like that? And then there was no way to _fix it_, because you were gone. I thought you died... alone, scared, and hating me. I couldn't _fucking handle it_."  
  
There was a flare up in the connection, and it sent warning bells ringing in Aziraphale's head. He adjusted the flow of the energy, increasing and decreasing until things stabilized again.  
  
"I was talking plenty, but nobody was fucking listening. Ironic, right? I didn't listen to you, so there was no one there to listen to me. Booze loosened my tongue, and I talked, pointless as it was. I was pissed about it, but at the same time that was exactly what I wanted. I mean, you know in normal circumstances we're basically unnoticeable unless we _want_ them to notice us. It was my choice. I didn't want to talk to anyone if it wasn't you."  
  
Crowley's hands were shaking, now, as he held Aziraphale's. But he still plowed on ahead. "Kept looking at the chair, across from me. Saw you there. Heard you complaining about how a pub wasn't your scene, but of course you were still wearing that damned smile that I love more than life itself. I reached for you, even though I _knew_ you weren't there. _It hurt_. When you popped up a few minutes later, I couldn't believe you were really there. Thought I'd _actually_ lost my fucking mind. Maybe I did, all things considered."  
  
"But then... I was looking at you. When you asked about Alpha Centauri, that was when I realized: you couldn't see me. But _I_ could see _you_. And seeing you... slammed it all back on. Like it sobered me up without my consent and made me look at the state of things full in the face again. But then I didn't have time to think. World was ending. I said I wasn't gonna do anything. I didn't _have the strength_ to do anything, but if you weren't dead... then I had to _find it_ somewhere. I moved through all that so fast it gave me fucking whiplash."  
  
An odd, half choked laugh escaped him. "It all feels so _stupid_. The moment I saw you again, I should've been fine. It was a misunderstanding. I'd thought wrong. You were okay. In an ideal world I might've been okay too. Doesn't work that way in this reality. If I had a magical fix it button I would've used it before the first time you had to listen to me scream at night. I feel so weak, and I hate it."  
  
It was at this point that the frustrated tears began pouring out of his eyes. Noticing them just frustrated him more, though. He made an odd sound, half growl, half sob. "_Fuck_, I'm _sorry_. I hate that I get like this. It's not fair for you, Angel. You shouldn't have to deal with this _constantly_. You deserve better."  
  
Aziraphale hesitated, unsure if he should move, if it would break the link, but ultimately his instinct to nurture Crowley in a more direct manner kicked his arse, and he scooted closer, just enough that he could gently move him into a tight hug against his chest. He held him with one arm and left the other hand clasped with Crowley's, an anchor that he knew would help. "I know it's very difficult for you to believe, dear, but it really, _truly_ doesn't bother me one bit. Taking care of you, I mean. It isn't about what you think I do or don't deserve. The fact is, you _aren't_ a burden on me. It's not a crime to need someone. We all do, whether we admit it or not. Humans are social creatures by nature. You and I have spent so long here, there's no way we couldn't pick up some of their habits. And... we understand each other better than anyone else could ever hope to. Earth is our home just as much as it is theirs, at this point."  
  
"It has to be. It's all we've got left." Crowley sighed, finding himself in a position he'd been in quite often lately; crying against Aziraphale's chest. He felt pathetic.  
  
The words echoed in his head, though. They hit. If he could manage to hold onto them for long enough, maybe he'd start to believe them. _You aren't a burden. It's not a crime to need someone._ The warmth put a tiny crack in that darkness in his heart, and from it, pulled a spark of hope from him.  
  
The idea of being able to believe in something was almost nice.  
  
"I think... perhaps we should stop here." He heard Aziraphale hum, and it startled him out of his reverie. "No! I mean... no. I can keep going, Angel."  
  
"You shouldn't push yourself." Aziraphale reminded. His voice was unbelievably gentle.  
  
He had a point. It would be reasonable, to adjourn now. But, despite the breakdown, somehow Crowley hadn't lost faith in himself yet. "We've barely started. We can't quit."  
  
Aziraphale was almost shocked at the argument. It seemed like it was coming from a place of stubbornness more than anything, but he could still see Crowley's determination. He wanted to fight this. There may come a point that said determination led him to be reckless... but they would deal with that if it happened. Aziraphale was here to keep tabs on that, as well. He nodded, squeezing Crowley's hand in assurance. "Well, then... we should at least change gears. Put this topic on hold for now. I suspect this is... something that's going to take a bit of time to crack. It's much easier said than done, but I want you to feel safe when we do this. If we keep going like this, you _will_ get hurt more."  
  
"I'll take that." It was an easy concession to make. Getting rid of some of this weight that had settled on top of him would be nice right now. And they had all the time in the world to get back to this, didn't they?

Well, provided that everything continued to work as intended. But even_ if_ it stopped, he wouldn't put it past Aziraphale to come up with an alternative. He doubted anything would stop him from doing so, really.  
  
Through introspection, he'd come to realize they both had the same thing floating through their heads, at a time like that:  
  
_Anything for him._

That was as powerful a battle cry as any other, in this case.  
  
A hand was fluffing up the top of his hair, distracting him. Bringing him back to the moment. "It's likely that nothing that bothers you is necessarily _light_, but do you have something that's a _little_ less distressing to you that you want to go over? A step or two back on the intensity level would be good, from everything I can gather here."  
  
There was a sharp exhale against that broad chest. "Yeah. Guess there is."  
  
But he didn't sit back up. Didn't move from Aziraphale's embrace. Couldn't find it in him to do so.  
  
He knew what he was about to do. He wouldn't be able to avoid making his own cuts as they went through this.  
  
"'You go too fast for me, Crowley.'"  
  
Aziraphale briefly felt like he'd been punched in the gut. There was a ripple in the flow of energy that he was sure Crowley must have noticed too. He hadn't expected Crowley to go there, somehow. At least not right now. But struggle related to _this_ topic was something he was intimately familiar with. The moment had played in his mind on near constant loop when he'd been fighting himself over his own feelings.  
  
Crowley's eyes were mostly unfocused, but pointed at Aziraphale's shoulder all the same. His voice was but a low rumble. "I made myself sick over that for decades, Angel. Thought the whole business with the Holy Water had really broken our bond. Not seeing you again in between the night you gave it to me and the night Adam was born convinced me I'd fucked up. I couldn't stand it."  
  
Aziraphale fidgeted under him. There was a brief but intense internal power struggle between two sides of him: one, which maintained that he would only complicate the process by getting his own feelings involved, and the other, which argued that by providing his insight, he could bring out new context and possibly help Crowley work things out by giving him the whole picture.  
He ended up siding with the latter.  
  
_He_ had to try things out, too. Feel it out, see what worked best for Crowley. The silent listening ear method didn't seem to do too much for him. In fact, it was probably best to avoid that. Things had gotten a bit manic there for a moment without guidance.  
  
"Mm... forgive me, darling, but I think I _do_ have to step in on this one. It's only fair that I'm honest with you and speak my mind as well. This can't be totally one-sided, especially when it seems so much of your struggle is tied so closely to your relationship with me. We need to work together to air everything... in order to move on. Can't have a proper beginning without healing all the wounds. Even if that means we have to open them first."  
  
Crowley hummed thoughtfully. He could tell Aziraphale regretted the prospect of causing him more pain, but it made sense, logically, that they had to leave nothing unsaid. This wouldn't work as well as it should if either one of them was holding back.  
  
That, and the wound metaphor really _was_ apt. They couldn't leave these gaping holes to their own devices. They would fester. They had to clean them out, however they could. Start stitching them up. Only then could he begin to heal properly.  
  
"Yeah. Yeah... talk to me." He said, finally. He'd taken the words for what they were: a warning. He'd accepted it. What he was about to hear likely wouldn't be something totally pleasant, but he believed that Aziraphale wouldn't bring it up unless he felt like it would help somehow.  
  
"For the first time since Eden, realizing I might have those feelings for you caused me to _actually_ wonder if what I was doing was right. I mean, through the ages I'd had the little moments of doubt over things once in a while, but this one... well, it was something pretty huge, wasn't it? I wondered, was it really alright, to openly defy my place like that? Was _I_ going to be alright? I've never been what I would consider a model angel. I eat, quite frequently, and make no apologies about enjoying it. I seek knowledge that would make the others balk. Despite that, Falling never really scared me as much as it perhaps should have. But even so,_ outright rebellion_ was still a huge leap to take. Through all of this, I've had to learn that my faith in God and my faith in Heaven, or lack thereof, are two different things. Believing in _Her_ and believing in t_hem_ aren't the same. I struggled with it, for a time, but I was _always_ more worried for you than I was for me. That was what _actually_ terrified me, the idea of Hell finding out about our companionship._ I_ might _Fall_, but _you'd_ be _destroyed_. To me, it was obvious which outcome was worse."  
  
A sigh, deep and heavy, came from Aziraphale. "I wanted to come home with you, you know. When you asked, the night of Armageddon. I wanted to, _so badly_. I didn't want to be apart from you. Something inside me was still fighting me, though. Even then, when it was all over. They already knew what we'd been playing at. They were going to come for us, it was a certainty. We both knew that already, didn't we? That night might have been my last chance to open up to you, and I still didn't take it. You weren't at arm's length anymore, perhaps... but my hand was still on your chest. Blocking you from crossing the last distance."  
  
The connection wobbled slightly. Like Crowley had pushed some of the healing energy back with his empathy. "You looked so sad, Angel. It almost made me feel bad for asking. I thought surely I was seeing things I wanted to see, not what was actually there. It stung pretty hard. I feel like an idiot thinking about it now. I wish I would've said something. Had the same feeling, that night in the car."  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. "If you still want to insist that you're an idiot, we both are, dear. I'm _not_ blameless in all of this. My heart knew I loved you the instant you handed over the bag of books. When I finally gave you the Holy Water, I'd just spent about two and a half decades arguing morality with myself. My pattern of thought had shifted, and I think I knew by that time... if I indulged myself in you even _a little bit_, I would never be able to stop for anything. I _do_ know what I'm like, and there was still too much at stake. I suppose part of me must've felt backed into a corner. You_ were_ going too fast for me. Leaving the possibilities to hang was the most I could do. Perhaps unbeknownst to you, you were rushing me to make a decision I simply _couldn't_ make at that point in time. When I became aware of your plot, I knew I had to do something to throw the brakes on and protect you. You were desperate enough to rob a church. You'd risk your life for that Holy Water, and there was _no way_ I could abide that. If we'd been at all competent, we both might have realized _what it was_ that I'd done, when I handed over that thermos to you. I'd betrayed my feelings for you right there and then. I was so focused on keeping you safe, I didn't even realize I'd completely tipped my hand."  
  
It hit Crowley like a ton of bricks.  
  
At once, so much about that scene made sense in ways that it hadn't before. "_Holy shit_." He said, tone betraying the awe he felt. It was like a vault inside his mind had been blown open, but instead of_ taking_, things were being _added_ to it. "It wasn't _about_ Heaven. It wasn't about what they thought. Well, maybe at the beginning, but... it was about _me_. Yeah... _yeah_, I remember. You weren't worried about that, you were worried about me. You said 'Don't go unscrewing the cap'. You'd always been afraid you'd give it to me and I'd hurt myself. Intentionally or otherwise. I'm guessing that's why you didn't want me to thank you, in case it went pear shaped. Didn't want that on your mind if something happened to me, right? Then you said that stuff about the picnic and The Ritz... _shit_, now I see it. Didn't make any sense to me at the time, mind. Felt random. All I'd done was ask if you wanted to go somewhere. I wasn't reading into it deep enough. It was like... when all was said and done, it was you saying 'I _want_ to do this, but we can't right now'. _Fuck_, Angel."  
  
"At some point in the intervening decades, I'd taken the nebulous bits and put them all together. I realized you really _were_ in love with me, too, and that just complicated things even further. It made it even more difficult for me to hold back, but I _had_ to. Your life was at stake, Crowley. It didn't _matter_ what I felt, I wasn't going to risk you any more than I already had been. If they'd found out about our association any earlier than they did, it's likely that neither of us would be here now. I suppose, deep down, I was afraid that my love was even more dangerous for you than the Holy Water. I may have made the decision to trust you with _that_, in the end, but I needed some time apart from you to get things back in order. To let things cool down and not do something I shouldn't. At that point in time I probably trusted you more than I trusted myself."  
  
"I'd _almost_ had myself together enough that I could face you with a level head, but I was still working on it when you called, that night in 2008. It was sudden, and I wasn't ready yet. Gabriel had come to warn me that '_things_' were happening, a little while before. I got a bit panicky over seeing you again, and that was the first time I'd felt that way in a very long time. I guess I sort of... reverted to the old 'hereditary enemy' lines as an instinct. I leaned on them and used them as a shield because I was afraid I'd let you in too far, at a time when I knew I absolutely _must not_. I apologize that you suffered as a result of me clamming up. I really don't know what I can do to make up for everything you've gone through because of something that I did."  
  
Crowley finally dared to turn his head, looking up at the other's face. "Doing it right now, aren't you?"  
  
"...yes, I suppose you're right." After all, this _was_ probably the best thing he could do for Crowley now, to do what he could to aid him in the fight against his own mind. Especially since he couldn't help but feel responsible. The catalyst for this whole thing had been his own carelessness. He'd stopped paying attention at a critical moment. He'd backed into that active circle and got sucked up to Heaven before he was ready. He didn't really know how the shop came to be on fire, exactly, but it had happened as a direct result of his lapse. It was true that Crowley had other issues than just the fire... but that had set things off. On top of every other reason he had to do so, helping him felt like atonement for that most grievous of sins.  
  
Crowley's thumb, tapping against the back of his hand, pulled him back. "There were a few times I thought I caught a little glimmer of hope, y'know. About you. Always convinced myself I was wrong, though. Hope isn't part of a demon's kit. Look, but don't touch. That was all I could have, and I knew that. Couldn't give in to hope and start thinking I was _allowed_ to _want _things. Whole point of Falling. My existence was meant to be miserable from that moment on, and the whole problem was me._ I_ fucked up and Fell. _I_ had to live with that. Was a joke to think I had permission to want **_anything_**, least of all a goddamn angel."  
  
His gaze dropped again. "You being hurt was always the worst thing I could imagine. I was always terrified if I got _too_ close to you, you'd Fall. So I sat back, shut the fuck up, and never said a thing. And yet, I still... I felt like I _had_ to be close to you. Close as I could be, without crossing the line. Maybe I'm a masochist, because fuck... riding up against that line hurt a lot. It probably would've been better if I stayed away from you, but I _needed_ you. You're the only one that could ever understand me."  
  
A gentle hand began rhythmically patting his back. "We've had a hard time of it, you and I. There's no getting around that. But I do think, through all of this, it's also good that we remember it _is_ all over. It's going to be difficult to do, I imagine, for a long time. But we'll keep at it until we get it."  
  
"Yeah. I _am_ relieved. No way I wouldn't be. But right now, more than anything else, I think I'm tired. I'm just... fucking tired. I've spent 6000 years putting people off my trail, one way or another. Goes without saying I'm not a saint. I've done what I had to, but I've never _enjoyed_ any of that. When it comes down to it, I'm a shitty demon that doesn't want to hurt people. I wasn't what they wanted me to be. Had to expertly play my hand because I wasn't outwardly evil enough. The problem was, I couldn't be myself, either. Always had to keep on with the game. It's a disconnect that's fucked me up for who knows how long."  
  
"For what it's worth... I think some part of me always knew it wasn't what it seemed, with you. That part was drowned out, for a long time, by my nerves. I _was_ suspicious of you, at the beginning. But as our lives went on, it got louder. It asserted itself. And now all of that is over. I know who you are."  
  
_I know who you are._  
  
It echoed. The weight of that declaration was like an arrow fired straight to Crowley's heart. It struck true.  
  
The impact forced a sudden laugh out of him. "I'm so grateful for you, Angel. You must have a superpower, or something. You always know what to say."  
  
Despite himself, Aziraphale laughed, too. "Oh, hush. I'm going to drop the circle now, alright?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
He watched out of the corner of his eye as the glow died down, and felt Aziraphale start to taper off the flow of energy inside of him. He weaned him off of it gradually, but he still missed it once it stopped completely.  
  
He felt a bit dizzy, afterwards. Tired, definitely.  
  
Maybe that flow had also been helping to keep him going. Maybe it had been what had pushed him to extend the affair past what had seemed like a breaking point.  
  
He sluggishly pushed off of Aziraphale's chest, looking up at him with more effort than it would normally take. His head felt heavy now. "'M gonna go take a nap. That okay?"  
  
"Of course, dear."  
  
_This_ nap was especially warranted, in Aziraphale's opinion. The session had been intense, and clearly there was still a lot they hadn't even so much as touched, but even so, there was a distinct sense of catharsis emanating from Crowley as he retired into his bedroom. Some of these were things he'd kept bottled up for a very long time, and it was good that he was getting the chance to release them, even if it was too late for it to have spared him any pain.  
  
Perhaps it wouldn't have gotten this bad if they could have just... _talked_ about things, once in a while. If the situation hadn't been so polarized. If Aziraphale hadn't been so flighty. But it didn't do to dwell on that. Like Crowley said, they weren't time travelers.  
  
Aziraphale gave him space, for the time being. It was likely he needed it. Instead of following behind, he set about cleaning up the room instead. He wiped up the sigil by hand, saying a quick thank you to Raphael, and put everything else back the way Crowley had it before. He picked up the book, sitting down on the sofa with it. Studying some more would probably be the most beneficial use of the time, he thought.

Westeros could wait some more.  
  
A few hours had passed before he looked up again. He sat up, wincing from the twinge of his muscles complaining very loudly at having been left in the same position for so long. He rubbed at his neck, placing his bookmark and setting the book aside to go and check on Crowley. He hadn't heard any noise from the other part of the flat, which probably meant there had been no night terrors, but he still wanted to look in on him anyway.  
  
However, when he got to the bedroom, he found an empty bed.  
  
When a cursory examination of the room didn't turn him up, a seed of worry planted itself. They were supernatural beings. They didn't have to use the bathroom no matter what they ate or drank. That binned the normal excuse for someone to get out of bed in the middle of the night.  
  
He'd been distracted, but surely he would've noticed if Crowley left the flat. The other could be rude, certainly, but he wouldn't leave without saying anything.  
  
He checked the plant room next, treading carefully amongst the verdant leaves that were trembling as much as he was when he didn't find Crowley there.  
  
Then he rolled through the hidden door into the office, but nothing awaited him there, except an empty throne and a dark room.  
  
The thought actually came to him, then. The one he'd been trying to avoid letting settle.  
  
Had someone come for Crowley, taken him?  
  
Had someone figured out their ruse?

He was weak. He might not be able to fight right now. Certainly not with the strength of someone supposedly able to transcend his very nature.  
  
A large bead of sweat rolled down the back of his neck.  
  
With the burst of slightly panicked energy, he rushed about the rest of the flat, finding empty rooms everywhere he went and inwardly cursing Crowley a little for having such a large living space. Surely he didn't need this much. He was being a bit greedy, the flash bastard.  
  
Lost in thought, and not sure what else to do, he walked towards the front door, and that was when he saw it.  
  
The sliding door leading off from the kitchen was open just slightly, and as he approached he could see Crowley's form through the gap, illuminated with both the lights of the city below and the gently pulsing LEDs on the e-cigarette he held as he stood on the balcony.  
  
He stifled the sharp breath he exhaled with his palm pressed against his mouth. He then stepped aside, steadying himself with a hand on the kitchen counter. His heart was racing, and he felt just a touch of nausea pass through as relief poured over him.  
  
"Oh, God." He said, lowly. Now he understood exactly what Crowley felt, in those moments of disorientation when he thought Aziraphale was gone.  
  
A consequence of having been so intimately connected with his mind while it was in this state, perhaps.  
  
Once he'd calmed down, he approached the door again. He got closer, this time, but didn't open the door more yet, simply watched Crowley through the open gap. He hadn't moved much in the interim, still standing in the same spot. The only difference might have been the pen switching hands.  
  
As he focused on it, he couldn't help noticing the fact that the light only changed color to cooler hues. Red, Orange, and Yellow were notably absent. Oddly placed small thing though it was, it seemed good that Crowley recognized this as something that would bother him.  
  
On the flip side of that, it reinforced the little inkling he'd had that they would have to work on his clear tendency for aversion at a later date.  
  
He knew he couldn't stand there much longer without being noticed, so he finally spoke up, sliding the door open enough that Crowley could see him properly.  
  
"You can't sleep?"  
  
Crowley looked over his shoulder at him. He looked rough, but that was understandable after all that raw emotion had been through him earlier. "Kept waking up. Coming out here usually helps."  
The angel paused by the door, remaining on the indoor side of the track. Respectfully keeping his distance. "Would you like to be alone?"  
  
"No. Stay." He paused for only a few seconds. "In fact... c'mere."  
  
Aziraphale did as he was asked, moving out onto the balcony to stand next to Crowley, who took his hand without a word.  
  
The only sound in the small space for the longest time was the steady whoosh of Crowley's cigarette each time he puffed on it.  
  
It was easy to get lost in the white noise of the city. It wasn't as loud now as it was during the day, but there was still just enough of a rumble for it to be calming.  
  
He could see why Crowley liked it.  
  
"Y'know, I've heard humans say this, and I think they're right. You've got somebody special when you can just shut the fuck up for a while and comfortably share silence." He hummed, taking a drag and holding it in for a decent amount of time before expelling the smoke. It smelled like apple pie. Fitting. "Think they got it from a movie, but still. Somebody had to come up with it in the first place, right?"  
  
There was a certain romantic quality about the moment that couldn't be denied. Despite himself, Aziraphale was smitten. Perhaps as a result of that, when Crowley gently tugged at his hand, he got the message quicker than he normally would've. He moved over a little closer, allowing Crowley to step behind him and wrap an arm around his waist. He'd become rather tactile since the confession and the concurrent cuddle they'd shared, but nevertheless always remained respectful. There was always a pause. A space of time reserved for Aziraphale to stop any contact he didn't want.  
  
"What d'you think, doc?" He asked, waving the apparatus in his hand in front of Aziraphale to indicate the subject of his question.  
  
Ignoring the tease, Aziraphale hummed to himself before giving his answer. "Perhaps it's not the _healthiest_ of coping mechanisms, but there are also worse things. I think it's different for us than it would be for a human. Though I do have to say, personally, I wish you wouldn't use _those_, Crowley. They're dangerous." Every time the light fluctuated, he couldn't help but think of those news reports he'd read about them exploding. It made him a bit nervous, and he idly wondered why it didn't effect Crowley the same way.  
  
Crowley considered it a moment before lifting the device to his lips again, taking a hit and heaving out a sigh with the smoke that time. "Used to smoke real ones." He didn't have to add that he couldn't do that anymore. It was understood. "I can quit, if it bothers you. It just... it's helped me calm down in the past. Might be a placebo, dunno. Think it's more of a habit from thinking it's doing something than from the nicotine." That was a point to consider, actually. He wasn't even sure if it was _possible_ for him to get addicted to something. Not that he could say he was too keen on experimenting with the concept. He supposed the end result was the same, though. It was a habit regardless.  
  
But Aziraphale shook his head, leaning back against Crowley. "You're not my child, darling. I'm not trying to tell you what to do, nor do I want to. If you do decide to stop doing it, make it because you wanted to stop, not because of my opinion."  
  
"I love you. And you're gonna get tired of hearing me say it, but... thank you."  
  
Aziraphale pinched him lightly in reprimand, making him jump. "You say it like I could simply leave you to your own devices. If you've already forgotten that I love you in return, I suppose I'll just have to do a better job of showing you."  
  
"Shit, I--"  
  
The apology he'd been about to give was cut off by Aziraphale smoothly turning in his hold, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt to reel him in and kiss him, quite firmly and quite insistently, on the mouth.  
  
Crowley's reaction was a bit of a slow build. The initial shock had briefly rendered him unable to move, stole his breath. But he ended up with both arms looped around the angel's waist, pushing him back against the barrier at the edge of the balcony.  
  
He slipped his tongue past Aziraphale's lips, and that was the point that his brain finally caught up with him. His eyes flew open.  
  
As quickly as it had begun, it was over.  
  
He pulled back and broke the kiss, panting against Aziraphale. He really never had gotten the hang of the whole 'you don't need to breathe' thing. Having lived like this for 6000 years, he likely never would at this point. That'd be a Hell of a habit to break. "Okay... okay."  
  
His little smile was quite shy for someone who'd been moving so surely a moment ago.  
  
Aziraphale grinned against him, blue eyes twinkling. "Okay."  
  
"Shit. That was crazy." Crowley's voice was hoarse.  
  
"You enjoyed it, though?" In his tone there was a slipped in apology for the abruptness of it. Generally, they were good at respecting each other's autonomy. If anything, he was the one that was pushier. He didn't mean to be. It was probably just a side effect of his having had slightly more freedom to do as he pleased than Crowley did, until recently. He tended to act without thinking too much about it. Most of the time, anyway.  
  
Crowley _had_ enjoyed it. The unprompted question buzzing about in his ear was... was it _safe_ to enjoy it?  
  
Probably not.  
  
Edging toward_ definitely_ not.  
  
On the inside, he was glad it hadn't lasted very long. He didn't know what might've happened, otherwise.  
  
"Nice crazy." He amended, finally.  
  
Aziraphale looked at him with something that seemed like playful accusation in his eyes. "Why does that sound like a phrase you might use to describe me?"  
  
Crowley's expression said he might consider it. "Well, if the shoe fits, Angel." He shot back, and they shared a laugh.  
  
After that, they settled back into an easy silence for a time, staying close, chins resting on each other's shoulders. The contact was intimate, but not overbearing. Crowley's control hadn't been broken.  
  
His cigarette lay long forgotten on the table next to them.  
  
The sound of a plane flying overhead broke the silence, and Crowley sighed, suddenly. "I think I wanna go on holiday. Get out of here for a while. Dunno. Looking at something other than London might help, with... all this. You'll come, yeah?"  
  
There was only one answer that could be given. "Of course I will. Where do you want to go, love?"  
  
"Got a couple ideas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale reads A Song of Ice and Fire.  
And yes, Crowley vapes. I'm lowkey cackling on the inside, don't mind me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was very freeing to be left alone, having full autonomy over their choices and path. Neither of them *really* knew what to do with that, though. After six millennia, each under a different thumb, it was a bit mind boggling to even think about doing whatever they liked without fear of recourse. The stakes were so high, for so long... it was hard to truly know what to do with freedom, without a nagging worry in the back of one's mind.
> 
> They were doing a decent job at it, considering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the support on this story so far! I'm happy that people are enjoying my first foray into Good Omens fic. I'm really inspired by the series so I'm almost certain I'm going to keep writing for it even after this one is done :) [But that won't be for a while bc good lord it has doubled in size again with the ideas I've gotten to flesh it out]  
As always y'all can yell at me in the comments here and also hit me up on [tumblr](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/) if you like!

The holiday to Alpha Centauri (with a stop off at a delightfully odd little planet Crowley had called Gallifrey) had been wonderful, getting to see up close some of what Crowley had built in his stint in Heaven, brief in comparison though it was to the amount of time he'd lived post-Fall. It all gave Aziraphale a whole new angle of understanding who Crowley was, as an angel, and he'd found it all rather lovely. He certainly wouldn't be opposed to doing it again, someday. But he did also have to admit he preferred things here on Earth.  
  
They'd decided that rather than go straight home to London after spending some time among the stars, traveling a bit more was on the agenda. It had been about a month, so far, according to the date when they'd arrived back. It hadn't felt that long, somehow. Was definitely a good thing Crowley had set up that sprinkler system for the plants before they left.  
  
They were in Rome, now, and had just left a restaurant coincidentally run by a descendant of Petronius... that family still did remarkable things to oysters, even after all this time. Must've been baked into the bloodline. Aziraphale had quickly and very insistently remedied 'I've never eaten an oyster' after learning that the demon still hadn't.  
  
Despite the somewhat suggestive tone he'd replied with way back then, baiting the angel into inviting him by implying he might like to eat one, Crowley had skipped actually eating (successfully resisting what had seemed a Hell of a lot like repeated attempts at legitimate Temptation from Aziraphale) when they'd gone to Petronius' restaurant in favor of what would become one of his favorite past times from that point forward; watching Aziraphale eat.  
  
He didn't sit down and actually try to figure out _what it was_ about that in particular that interested him so much, but if he had to guess, it was probably the hedonism that rolled off of the angel in waves. Aziraphale had the glorious habit of showing just how much he appreciated the food he ate, not at all holding back his pleased sounds or facial expressions. Maybe that fed what few demonic streaks he did have inside him.  
  
Occasionally it created an itch of desire deep down within him where otherwise it didn't really exist. It had been something he'd largely been able to sweep under the rug, when it did happen. Not that it had required much effort, since the feeling hadn't been ever-present. It hadn't bothered him that much, since it was transient at best. It would pop up for just a moment and didn't resist too much when he brushed it aside.  
  
He had immense appreciation for the fact that the angel was totally unapologetic about doing whatever he liked in the pursuit of self pleasure. And yet, he still remained just that: an angel. The phenomenon was a long standing fixation of Crowley's, for better or worse. It just edged a little bit too far the wrong way, sometimes. Thankfully, thus far it had always righted itself without much intervention.  
  
Appetites sated for the moment, they moved back through the city, Crowley's steady hand on the small of Aziraphale's back as they walked. He couldn't help but be put at ease by the touch of the demon's fingers, and if he was being completely honest, he felt quite besotted. There was a point in time, more recently than he'd like to admit, that he'd felt very strongly that they would never be able to be like this.  
  
Sure, they could have their Arrangement; the dinner dates, meetings in the park, wine in the back room of the book shop. It was _never_ going to be like this, though. No matter how long it went on. Until now, being guarded was an absolute requirement. That wasn't to say he'd become complacent, but it was nice to be able to relax.  
  
It was very freeing to be left alone, having full autonomy over their choices and path. Neither of them _really_ knew what to do with that, though. After six millennia, each under a different thumb, it was a bit mind boggling to even think about doing whatever they liked without fear of recourse. The stakes were so high, for so long... it was hard to truly know what to do with freedom, without a nagging worry in the back of one's mind.  
  
They were doing a decent job at it, considering.  
  
Crowley's mental state, in general, seemed to be improving somewhat. The night terrors had slightly dropped off in frequency, enough to be noticeable. Or... there were less outbursts, at least. On those quiet nights, he might've still stirred a lot in his sleep, but Crowley hadn't complained of the dreams when he woke. It was what told Aziraphale, more than anything else, that the first healing session had actually _done something._  
  
They'd decided to suspend the next one for the time being though, until they returned from holiday. For several reasons, really. For one, Crowley obviously felt safer at home, and that was normal. Introducing a new element like a change of location at this stage wouldn't be good for him. Things had gotten raw last time, and Aziraphale didn't see that trend changing for quite a while.  
  
It also gave him a chance to see what more 'orthodox' methods could do to help. Meaning, methods that humans used. _They_ didn't have access to anything supernatural. No occult or ethereal energy to speak of. Without those advantages, they'd had to delve into the actual physical and chemical construction of the brain. Figure out what made it tick on a more substantial level. There was great darkness to be found in a human mind, as well. Even without the weight of being immortal. But they still managed. They were learning more all the time.  
  
These delightful little creatures had still come up with ways to shepherd each other through a dark night. To heal a broken mind.  
  
It was fascinating, really.  
  
"I want you to try something for me, love." He said, casually, as they sat together on the opposite sides of a cute little table in a park that somehow reminded him a lot of St. James's. It was nearby their hotel, and he'd spotted it on the way back, derailing Crowley's plan to go back and loaf around, for the time being.  
  
With his glasses on, he couldn't see Crowley's eyes right now, but he still saw that eyebrow quirk above the frame. "What?"  
  
"It's a human method that's used to help with panic disorders. It's called... 'box breathing'. It's supposed to be helpful for, er... _those_ moments, you know? When you feel overwhelmed."  
  
Crowley's ears perked in interest. Aziraphale took his clear attention as a sign to continue. "I thought it would be nice to give you more tools to help yourself. Since it... seems to be weighing on you that I'm helping you so much. So I've been looking into it. And this one seemed apt, since you... well, it sounds odd to put it this way, but you breathe a lot. You place a lot of importance on it."  
  
Crowley's heart stuttered. Clearly Aziraphale had put a lot of thought into this. "I love you." He said, out loud, without thinking. It was swiftly followed up with a flush.  
  
He'd been trying not to say it _too_ much. He had urges to quite often, and most of the time he gave into them. He knew Aziraphale liked hearing it. He knew _why_, too. After so many years of that deep, unresolved tension, each utterance of that simple phrase was like a small miracle all by itself.  
  
It was a sentiment they shared.  
  
"I'll take that to mean you like the idea." Aziraphale laughed, and his nose did that adorable thing it sometimes did and wrinkled up.  
  
It was the most endearing thing on the planet, and Crowley couldn't stand it. His eyes dropped to Aziraphale's lips. He wanted to lean over and kiss him.  
  
Fortunately or unfortunately, he wasn't totally sure which, the angel spoke up and distracted him. "Now, you have to sit up straight for this. You _can_ do that, right, dear?" It was a well placed tease. Crowley's body always looked like it was trying to melt into itself whenever he'd sit, sprawled out over some furniture. A cobra coil he'd never grown out of. He looked no different right now.  
  
A very audible huff came from the demon, and he pulled his body up in the chair, sitting with his spine perfectly parallel to the slats lined up on the back rest. His hands hovered awkwardly, though. He wasn't quite sure what to do with them.  
  
Aziraphale watched him with amusement, sitting up himself to mirror the posture."Put your hands in your lap. Palms up." He said, showing him what he meant. He followed suit, and the angel nodded in satisfaction.  
  
"The entire point of all of this is to get you to focus on your breathing. You're supposed to close your eyes, while you do it. The cycle goes like this: You draw the inhale through your nose for a count of four; breathe, two, three, four. You hold that breath in for the same count of four; hold, two, three, four. Exhale through your mouth, count of four; out, two, three, four." He said, slowly counting out the measures in the proper length as he spoke to teach them to Crowley. "You repeat the process as many times as you need to until it helps you get back to a state of calm."  
  
"Sounds odd."  
  
"Try it."  
  
He wasn't feeling particularly peaked right now, so he wasn't sure it would do much, but he figured why not give it a shot. He shifted in his chair, making sure he was still maintaining the proper posture, let his eyes drift closed, and started to pull in air through his nose. He methodically counted out the four measures, at roughly the same speed Aziraphale had. He sat still, holding in the breath, for the same four measures. Finally, he exhaled, somehow managing to remember his counts, and his eyes opened at the same time.  
  
"Oh." He didn't know if he was just imagining it, but things looked clearer, somehow, than they had when he closed his eyes. Sharper. Like his eyes were focusing more now.  
  
"That sounds promising. What do you think, love?"  
  
"I think you're fucking brilliant, mister A.Z. Fell." He grinned, daring enough to actually lean over for that kiss now, holding Aziraphale's head still with a hand on his chin. The contact was brief, and soon enough he was drawing back again, sitting back in his chair but offering his hand to the angel instead.  
  
He took it, but instead of continuing to sit there, like Crowley had expected, he stood, and pulled the other up along with him. "This park is so cute, don't you think? Let's take a stroll."  
  
"More _walking_?"  
  
Aziraphale swatted him playfully, dragging him back out onto the path. "Don't be lazy!"  
  
Crowley swore they must've walked around the entire park at least 10 times before Aziraphale finally had mercy on him around sunset and decided he wanted to go back to the room.  
  
As he closed the door behind them, Aziraphale let out a deep, but pleasant sigh. "Ah... what a long day. It was nice, though."  
  
"Yeah." It was a bit sarcastic, but at the same time, he also meant it.  
  
"I think I'd like to have a nice bath, after that. What do you think?" The question lost a bit of its initial innocuous quality once Crowley deduced its implication from the way Aziraphale was looking at him.  
  
His heart skipped a beat. "What, you mean... together?"  
  
"Yes. Would that be alright?"  
  
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I guess. Don't see why not." He _did_, in fact, see why not. But the idea of relaxing in a hot bath was pretty enticing right now. His body was a bit sore from all the walking they'd done. Besides that, he wanted to take every chance he could get to improve his bond with Aziraphale. It was hard to not want to be near him every second of every day, after millennia of being forced to do everything _except_ that specific thing.  
  
"I'll go and run the water. Come along whenever you're ready, darling."  
  
He watched Aziraphale disappear into the bathroom, and wondered again if he really should do this. He probably shouldn't, all things considered. It had the potential to go very badly.  
  
But then again, he supposed, damn near _everything_ in life had the potential to go badly _somehow_.  
  
It was just a bath. It'd be alright.  
  
He shook his head at himself, standing up to let his feet carry him past the doorway and into the tiled room. Aziraphale was just turning the tap back off when he entered.  
  
The tub sat in the center of the room, which seemed a bit odd for a hotel. It was one of those old style claw foot baths. He hadn't seen one of those for a long time. Also sort of odd. Looking down into it, he found that it was filled about three quarters of the way with water.  
  
Crowley wasn't jumpy around water, anymore. Not that he ever really had been, in particular. But every demon had at least that base amount of reticence toward it, instinctively. After all, as with fire and its Hellish counterpart, it was near impossible to distinguish water and Holy Water by sight alone. Context clues were usually what would give away one or the other. The only time he had been truly nervous about it was during the confrontation with Hastur and Ligur in his flat. Of course, in that moment, he already _knew_ he was dealing with Holy Water. His thoughts flicked briefly back to that tartan thermos. It being handed over, shakily, inside of his Bentley. Aziraphale really had saved him... by trusting him.  
  
And now he had that very same angel by his side near constantly. His was an angel that was _particularly_ sharp sensed when it came to protecting him, and perhaps _even more so_ when it came to Holy Water specifically. It felt like he might tear Heaven down around them if Crowley got so much as a drop of it on himself (which was fitting, since Crowley would rip Hell apart for him too). He had no need to worry about that ever again, really.  
  
If only it was the same with the element on the opposite end of the spectrum.  
  
Aziraphale's hand touched his shoulder, distracting him. "Is something wrong?"  
  
"...huh? Er, no."  
  
Apparently he'd been standing there, staring into the filled tub, longer than he thought he had. He shook his head, stripping off his clothes and lifting his leg over the side to climb in. He didn't even have time to blink before Aziraphale was disrobed and in with him, which knocked him a bit off kilter. He didn't think he'd ever seen his angel move that fast before.  
  
The tub had been silently miracled bigger in that moment as well. Big enough for both of them to fit quite comfortably, and deep enough for the water to be chest high on Crowley when he sat down, just barely hitting his collarbone. That meant that on Aziraphale it was covering his shoulders.  
  
"Is this seat taken?" He asked playfully, fully settling himself between Crowley's legs.  
  
"For somebody who likes books so much, y'can't read very well. It says 'Reserved for Angel'." He laughed, settling his own body against the rim of the tub and humming softly in approval as Aziraphale followed him to lean on his chest.  
  
It was just... nice, to be with him like this. It seemed silly now, to be afraid of it.  
  
A fond hand brushed the outside of his leg. It stilled after a couple of seconds, though. "Is this alright?"  
  
Was it...?  
  
"Yeah." After the permission was given, Aziraphale wasted no time in moving his hand again.  
  
Crowley was content to stay that way for some time. That is, until one of those strokes went awry and slipped too close to the _inside_ of his leg. He jumped, and gasped, too sharply for Aziraphale not to notice. "Uh..."  
  
Aziraphale's hand slowed to a stop again, and he cocked his head toward Crowley. "Hm?"  
  
"Almost fell asleep again, sorry." Was his excuse, and he shifted behind him, grasping for something to distract himself. "D'you mind if I touch you, Angel? I'd like to, uh... wash you off, I guess. If you're okay with it." He settled on this, because it was very believable. They _were_ taking a bath, after all. Not sitting in a jacuzzi.  
  
Clearly Aziraphale hadn't expected the question. "I--What? No."  
  
"No, I can't? Or no, you don't mind?"  
  
Aziraphale cursed himself inwardly. "I don't mind. Sorry, love. I know I keep doing that. It's a bad habit. I'll try to start being more specific when I answer you." He turned to look at Crowley over his shoulder. "Will you let me give you a massage, after we get out?"  
  
"Mhm. That sounds fucking _amazing_." It did, and his aching muscles probably would've staged a revolt if he'd said no. "You learn that from a book, too?"  
  
The angel flushed at the (apparently right on target) tease, turning back around. "I might have."  
  
The water splashed as Crowley raised up, stretching for the little squeeze bottle of body wash that laid on the vanity top. His arm was just long enough to reach, and he curled his fingers around it, dragging it back to the bath along with a soft bristle brush that he pulled out of the air.  
  
He dipped the brush into the water, giving the bristles a good soak, before squeezing out a healthy amount of the soap, setting the bottle aside again and lathering the gel with his now empty hand.  
  
The angel sat up from his resting position on his chest and the water level receded just slightly. Those two things working in tandem were enough for about half of his back to be exposed. Crowley took the hint, lowering the brush enough that the bristles laid flat against his skin.  
  
He started a slow back and forth motion from the center of his back, watching as the bubbles smeared across the angel's skin. Once he'd gone over every bit of him that he could, he followed it up with a few handfuls of water, rinsing away the soap.  
  
He stretched his legs out all the way, scooting a little closer so he could reach around, over Aziraphale's shoulders and onto his chest, running the brush along his collarbone.  
Aziraphale's hand covered his, and he swallowed, half expecting a reprimand. What he got, though, was the angel's guidance.  
  
The brush dipped under the water, running over each dip and curve of Aziraphale's body. Crowley was still controlling the pace, but now he was being 'advised' on the direction. His eyes closed, and he kept pushing that brush, eventually letting Aziraphale take over completely.  
  
The feeling of that brush sliding under his hand had put him in something of a trance. He started after a while, catching himself with his lips a hair's breadth away from contact with the back of Aziraphale's neck. He moved back, taking his hand away finally. The implement evaporated again, returning to the nothingness it had come from in the first place.  
  
He didn't know how long it had been since they'd gotten in, just how much time he'd taken carefully giving Aziraphale a once over with that brush, with the angel's help. Their skin didn't prune the way genuine humans' did, so it was impossible to gauge time. In theory, that also meant they could stay in here forever. The room rate would miraculously keep getting paid.  
  
But he had a sudden and great urge telling him that he needed to get the fuck out of this bathtub. _Now._ He could lie down on the bed and relax. The bed here was much softer than the one in his flat, and he found it to be quite cozy when he was buried inside of those sheets. Nothing could bother him there.  
  
He wanted to soak up as much of that feeling as he could, since they were supposed to be leaving tomorrow. He knew he could easily snap up a bed just like it, but he liked _his_ bed too. He didn't want to get rid of it. Having something different every once in a while was just nice. Maybe they should do this more often. Wasn't like money mattered, and they weren't doing anything pressing anymore, day to day wise.  
  
He shook his head, nudging Aziraphale gently. He could think about this while he was laying in said bed. "I'm gonna get out. Wanna lay down now." He told him, pulling his legs back so he could bend them, supporting his weight on the rim of the tub to stand. The water cascaded down his back and thighs, and he ignored the feeling of eyes on him as he stepped out of the tub to stand next to it.  
  
He twisted at the waist, reaching over to grab his towel from the ring hanging next to the vanity.  
  
By the time he'd turned around again, Aziraphale was already out, dry, and clothed. He gave him a dubious look. The tub trick made sense, since he couldn't do something like that _without_ a miracle. But really, getting dressed? "Thought you wanted to do things the long way."  
  
The angel shook his hand flippantly. "Oh, little things like this barely count as miracles. Nobody will notice."  
  
Crowley shrugged. He supposed that was true enough. The energy it took to manifest clothes was negligible at best. Must've been. He couldn't recall Aziraphale ever mentioning being bitched at for that before. Not even after his 'strongly worded note'.  
  
He considered it a moment, reaching down to pull the plug and drain the water. He finished drying himself off with the towel before manifesting his own boxers back on. It was as much as he needed, really. Especially if Aziraphale was still planning to... give him a massage.  
  
His shoulder muscles twitched somewhat painfully, as if reminding him that they were still completely down for that revolt if he tried to change his mind now. He sighed, following Aziraphale out of the bathroom. He'd lingered to wait for him.  
  
The angel laid a dry towel out on the bed. "Lie down, sweetest. Get comfortable."  
  
"Okay." He said, following the direction to stretch out on his stomach, arms pushed up under one of the pillows. This had been Aziraphale's side, while they'd been staying here. He turned his face into the fabric and breathed in the sweet scent.  
  
The room went quiet, save for a few little bumps and shuffles here and there, the sounds of Aziraphale moving around the room...  
  
He was vaguely aware that one side of the mattress had suddenly dipped with some kind of weight. Aziraphale leaned over him, checking if he'd fallen asleep. "Crowley?"  
  
The demon stirred slightly. He _had_ been pretty close to dozing off. "Hm?"  
  
"I'm going to touch you now, alright?" The question woke him up a bit.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
And then he did.  
  
Those hands felt bigger, somehow, pressed against his back. Their solid weight on his shoulder blades felt nice. The warmth was nice, too.  
  
When the hands _moved_, though, they brought something with them that was more like a shower of the tiniest of electric shocks.  
  
Light, small circles were all he was given at first, but even that was pretty close to bliss. He didn't get touched very often. Well, before. Aziraphale had touched him plenty, lately, but not like this.  
  
He took a deep breath and exhaled against the pillow, letting his body sink into a more comfortable resting position. This was probably the most pliant he had ever been in his life, but he couldn't really say he minded.  
  
Aziraphale's hands dared to venture a bit further down his back, caressing over the muscles. Taking his time to give each one attention. The flip-flop between fond touch and firm squeeze was lighting up Crowley's nerves and making them sing.  
  
He went down, and down... ghosting over the parts of Crowley covered by his shorts, until he reached his bare legs. He took the firm calves in hand, squeezing them purposefully. Slowly, carefully, but firmly.  
  
He was unraveling Crowley, bit by bit.  
  
The uncharacteristic firmness of his palms pressing into certain spots on his way back up pushed the air right out of Crowley's lungs. His mouth hung slightly open from the way it felt when those fingertips ran up the entire length of his back, slipped between his shoulder blades, and ended up rubbing circles into the sides of his neck.  
  
Thumbs dragged up into the nape of his neck, pressing lightly the whole way, and he shuddered from the new wave of tingles that produced.  
  
Deceptively strong fingers dug a knot out from the middle of his shoulders, and he keened his appreciation into the pillow. "_Fuck_, I'm so in love with you. I'll never _not_ be in love with you."  
  
"If I'd known all I had to do to get you to say that was rub your back, I'd have done it a while ago." The notes of amusement and fondness were both high in Aziraphale's voice.  
  
Crowley flushed, turning his face farther into the pillow to hide behind his arm. "'M serious."  
  
And then Aziraphale used his nails a little bit, scratching at the skin. It drew out a sound from Crowley that sounded very suspiciously like a purr. His shoulders rolled toward the feeling, gooseflesh rose, and the little hairs on his body stood on end.  
  
"I know, dear."  
  
Then it was quiet, save for the sounds of Aziraphale's hands sliding against his skin. With each press of his palms, with each knead and dig of his fingers, the angel was making him and unmaking him and making him again.  
  
He looked boneless by this point. Felt it, too.  
  
He'd sunk so far down into the pleasant tingle coming out of the base of his skull that he barely noticed when the hands had slowed to a stop. He'd been taking up residence in his own little world.  
  
He just... felt _good_.  
  
"...right. Turn over for me?"  
  
"Hmf." Came the noncommittal answer. It was a wonder he could answer at all. He was busy not feeling his body. The only thing he _was_ feeling was the point of contact between him and Aziraphale's fingers, still resting lightly against him. Somewhere along the way it felt like his corporeal form had evaporated. He had become one with the mattress.  
  
"Crowley, I should do your front, too." The voice was little more insistent, this time. It caught his attention, and he grumbled. "Don't wanna move."  
  
Aziraphale nudged him. "All you have to do is roll over, you lazy serpent." There was exasperation in his voice, but it was playful.  
  
"Tch." He clicked his tongue, continuing to lie there. But he could feel Aziraphale's gaze boring into his back the entire time. Eventually, he caved. "...fine."  
  
It wasn't until he was about mid-roll that awareness of his body trickled back in and realization slammed into him.  
  
The base of his skull wasn't the only place he was tingly.  
  
Oh, _shit_.  
  
_Shit, shit, shit._  
  
He was absolutely, undeniably, unacceptably _turned on_.  
  
His shorts were tented. He was hard as a rock.  
  
And, oh, Aziraphale noticed. It would've been impossible for him _not_ to notice. There was no way for him to try to hide it.  
  
Their eyes locked. He didn't _say_ anything, but he didn't have to. Crowley read it from that look. Or his brain read what it wanted to in that glance.  
  
Either way, it set him off.  
  
"Fuck."  
"_Fuck._"  
"**_Fuck._**"  
  
He said, in succession, each utterance more severe and progressively more horrified as the panic he felt ramped up toward its peak. It hit him like a runaway freight train.  
  
He'd fucked up. He let go of his control in a situation where he should've known better.  
  
_Stupid. Stupid, is what you are._  
  
He hadn't been as guarded as he needed to be, and that was an understatement. After that kiss on the balcony, he _definitely_ should've known better than to not watch himself if Aziraphale was touching him this intimately. He'd reined himself in back then, true, but he hadn't been severe enough. And then came the restaurant, the oysters. He knew oysters were an aphrodisiac, but let that fly too. The bath. He'd ignored his own warnings and agreed to it. He just kept tempting this to happen and now it finally had.  
  
_This is all your fault, you know._  
  
"No, no, no, no, no." He sat up abruptly, gasping for breath, and scrambled away from the other's touch completely. He panted, back pressed fully against the headboard. "I'm sorry. Shit, Angel. I'm sorry!"  
  
"Crowley, it's alright!"  
  
But Crowley wasn't hearing him. The rapid transition from such a deep calm to full blown panic was too much for him.  
  
It most definitely _wasn't_ alright.  
  
_You just couldn't help yourself, could you? _The voice in his head asked, sadistically.  
  
"It was an accident. I didn't _mean to_. _**Fuck**_!" He gasped out, eyes rapidly focusing and unfocusing as they darted around the room. He hated this. Hated it. And he probably hated it more for the fact that this time he was out here, in the open. His glasses were across the room. His layer of protection was gone. Everything was visible.  
  
His heart was jack-hammering in his chest. He felt like he was going to vomit.  
  
He lowered his head to rest it between his knees, drawing his legs in close, staring at the blanket under him. He couldn't bear looking at Aziraphale anymore. Couldn't stand to keep watching him out of the corner of his eye, trying to say things to him that he couldn't hear.  
  
The voice inside his head was relentless.  
  
_This isn't acceptable. This is **definitely** over the line. You fucked up the nice thing you two had going here because you just **had** to be lecherous. You're a degenerate, and it's clear to see. Aziraphale has seen it, and he's **disgusted**. He expected you to be open with him, and you haven't. You've **lied** to him. Tried to hide yourself from him. You **knew** you had these desires toward him, deep down inside you. Did you really think you would be able to hold them back with willpower? **What** willpower? You're **weak**. Look where your weakness and cowardice has gotten you. Everything you've built since Armageddon is going to be broken. He's going to pull away from you again because of this._  
  
The lightbulb in the lamp on the table beside the bed exploded suddenly, and Crowley jumped. His whole body jerked, arms bracing him against the mattress. For a moment, the stuttery, erratic movements of his body and the rigid posture made it look like he might bolt out into the street, not caring one bit that he was only in his pants.  
  
Whose hands were these, sitting next to him on the pillows? His? They didn't feel like his, more like they belonged to someone else. Like his arms ended at the wrist and the rest was just static. He wished he could make his mind just slow the fuck down, but he couldn't, and that little feeling of helplessness only made things worse.  
  
The 'excitement' had drained out of him by now. That, at least, was a blessing.  
  
But it was hot. Unbearably hot. _Why_ was it so hot? He could feel sweat already sticking his skin to the wood behind him.  
  
His body was tingling, all over, and not in the pleasant way, from before. Now it felt like little knives stabbing into every inch of him. His head pounded. He could hear nothing but the blood rushing in his ears.  
  
There was an urgent sensation that his throat was closing. He could feel it, and it only made him feel more panicked. Again, he got that feeling that he couldn't breathe. Like there wasn't enough oxygen in the room. He choked. His heart felt like it might give out.  
  
He was_ sure_ he was going to discorporate.  
  
He _couldn't_. It would be the end of everything.  
  
He gagged, doubling over on himself more, clutching his throat. His other hand fisted itself in the blanket so hard it was a wonder it didn't tear.  
  
A different hand reached out from somewhere in the fuzzy space around him, grasping his, pulling it away from the bed, and Aziraphale tried very hard to ignore the stab of hurt he felt when Crowley flinched and pulled away from him. The sting was brief, as he knew better. That, too, was something Crowley hadn't meant to do. It just meant he couldn't help him as directly as he'd intended to. "Breathe, love. Breathe, like we practiced."  
  
Aziraphale had grabbed him? He had to assume that was what had happened. Too soon. Aziraphale had touched him too soon, and he jerked away. Fuck, why had he done that? He was only trying to help. Immediately he felt guilty.  
  
But 'breathe' was the key word. It reached him, sparked something in him.  
  
Aziraphale's voice, giving the lesson from earlier, floated back to him, reminding him.  
  
_Breathe, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four._  
  
It took him a moment to get hold of his faculties enough, but he moved to follow the instruction. Reluctantly, stiffly, he uncurled from himself, stretching his legs out in front of him again and placing his palms on his knees, back straight against the headboard. The posture was a bit more stiff than Aziraphale had taught him, but it was probably good enough to do the job. He closed his eyes and tried very hard to ignore the fact that Aziraphale's presence still felt too close to him. It might have been his balm, normally, but this time...  
  
This time he had to do it by himself.  
  
At first, the cycle was choppy. The first two or three times, it didn't work as intended. But something pushed him to keep going. He was about ten repetitions in before his pulse settled and the nausea abated even slightly, but the fact still remained that the coil of spikes that had stuck their way into him had started to let go just that easily.  
  
He could feel the calm flooding him, bit by bit, as he kept going.  
  
Fucking Hell, humans were brilliant. So brilliant it made him cry. Or that was his excuse when he burst into tears, anyway.  
  
It was all over as fast as it had come, but he felt every bit of it as he slid down the bed frame to lie down again. Even if the immediate panic was leaving him, he still felt like he had ruined something, here. Such clear proof that he wasn't exactly being pure about his feelings surely wouldn't be allowed to stand. Aziraphale wouldn't forget that he hadn't wanted him to touch him. That he'd pulled away.  
  
Was he going to... separate from Crowley, now? Was this all too good to be true, after all? Was he _still_ not allowed to have this?  
  
The aftershocks were hitting him hard. He blacked out for a second, staring at the wall. The room went quiet. He felt like he was watching his life happen through someone else's eyes. Like this was just a scene from a movie.  
  
But then there was a voice breaking through. "Crowley." Aziraphale's voice. "Is it alright if I...?"   
  
He forced himself to focus on the direction that voice was coming from. Push through the static that the room had become and focus on him for the first time since he'd started to freak out. Crack that shell back open, even if just a little bit.  
  
He was asking if it was okay to come closer, and that broke Crowley's heart all over again. He choked down the feeling of sickness, the guilt he felt for what he had done, and nodded, scooting over to make room.  
  
Aziraphale moved up next to Crowley, lying next to him on the other side of the bed, very pointedly avoiding getting too close to him. He knew that had simply been meant to give him space and not pressure him more, but somehow it made him feel worse.  
  
The angel made no attempt to touch him again. None at all. He remained at that respectful distance. It felt strange, since the both of them had been _so_ tactile lately. It almost piled on another pang of worry about an impending separation.  
  
But then he... laid out his arm. Slowly, inoffensively, it slid against the blankets, and came to rest, palm up, in the center of the bed. It didn't move any closer than that.  
  
He was offering himself back to Crowley. Leaving him to make the choice.  
  
He stared. There was so much love and support in that simple little gesture he could barely comprehend it. It said something like 'I'm right here. I'm next to you, and I'm _not going anywhere_. I will wait here for you until you're ready.'  
  
He was absolutely certain he didn't deserve someone loving him this much.  
  
It hurt his heart... and healed it, all at the same time.  
  
He'd lost the thread and wasn't sure how much time had passed before he did it, but he reached out. His shaky hand moved toward Aziraphale, and touched his palm. He was ready to accept him back.  
  
Fingers slipped between his, curling protectively around the back of his hand. A wide thumb slowly traced the side of his. It made him feel safe again. He laid there a while, anchored to reality by the feeling of their hands together. At least it seemed he hadn't fucked _everything_ up.  
  
A full body shiver ran through him. His body temperature had dropped pretty fast. He was getting cold now. There was warmth on the other side of this barrier their arms had created. Warmth, in many senses of the word.  
  
Warmth that he knew he needed.  
  
He'd cried himself out, and he was drained, so all he could do was give a weak whimper as he pushed himself past that starting line and moved. As he pulled himself toward Aziraphale, he was smoothly swept up. Wrapped up in the sheets, to warm him. Kissed so gently. On the hand, on the forehead. Held so tenderly.  
  
Everything was done so carefully, so lightly. He hated it, having to be treated like he was so breakable, but at the same time, he knew it was just what he needed. He _was_ breakable.  
  
Somewhere in those kisses, in those touches, was an apology he didn't want, that he wouldn't accept, because Aziraphale hadn't _done anything wrong_. It was him.  
  
But still, they helped the inside of his mind return to a state of white noise, rather than an all consuming acid.  
  
That night, against all the odds, _somehow_, Crowley didn't have a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof. Bit of a rough spot we've got going on here. Don't worry though, it'll all get sorted out ;)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demon that had been clinging to him like a limpet for much of the time since they'd averted Armageddon was suddenly, and *very obviously*, avoiding him as much as he could. In attempt to be respectful of his feelings, Aziraphale hadn't confronted him about what had happened in Rome.
> 
> No, he really had tried to be patient with him.
> 
> It took five days of gradually seeing less and less of him, watching him outright flee every time they were in the same room, before that patience snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is time. Welcome to the first chapter with porn. But first, we have to deal with the elephant in the room. Buckle in, y'all.

The demon that had been clinging to him like a limpet for much of the time since they'd averted Armageddon was suddenly, and _very obviously_, avoiding him as much as he could. In attempt to be respectful of his feelings, Aziraphale hadn't confronted him about what had happened in Rome.  
  
No, he really had tried to be patient with him.  
  
It took five days of gradually seeing less and less of him, watching him outright flee every time they were in the same room, before that patience snapped.  
  
"Crowley, we have to talk about what happened." He told him, cornering him as he came out of the plants' room for the first time in two days. It was where he'd been spending much of his time since they'd gotten back to London.  
  
Being called out had startled him. Clearly he'd expected the angel to keep letting him slither away. Aziraphale observed him go through the cycle of box breathing, counting in his head along with the motion of his chest. He couldn't help but be proud of him for learning when to use it, despite the circumstances.  
  
"I don't want to." His voice was slightly gravelly from disuse, and probably also from lack of sleep. He tried to move past Aziraphale, but found himself blocked, and certainly didn't have the will to physically reach out and try to move him from the way.  
  
"I _know_ you don't want to, but we _have_ to." It wasn't like he had to tell Crowley this. He knew, deep down, that the other knew he couldn't keep dodging this forever.  
  
He was still being stubborn, though.  
  
"I'm not gonna have some kind of deep existential crisis because I accidentally popped a boner, Angel. It's fine." His body language told a different story, though. It was closed off. He was trying to hide, even now.  
  
It was clear that Aziraphale didn't even _begin_ to buy his bullshit. "If it was fine, you wouldn't have had an episode to begin with. You wouldn't be _hiding_ from me. You and I are 6000 years old. We've had much bigger problems than this come between us, and I'm not going to let it keep putting eggshells under your feet. It may be awkward for you, but I need you to talk to me. This isn't me speaking as your healer. This is me speaking as your partner. ...Crowley, would you just look at me."  
  
It fell somewhere between question and demand, but he heard the plea in the undertones. He couldn't help but acquiesce. His eyes met Aziraphale's, and held them. It took all he had in him, but somehow he managed. "I told you, it was an accident. I don't want you to feel like--"  
  
Aziraphale cut him off. "Did it cross your mind, _at all_, that perhaps I might not object?"  
  
The fact that the angel had cut him off was enough on its own, but _what he said_ stopped him in his tracks, and the only thing he could think was: _What the **f****uck**?_  
  
_No_, it very obviously _hadn't_ crossed his mind. Crowley was dumbfounded. Aziraphale had always put on this... prudish air. Why the Hell would he have _ever_ expected that from him?  
  
"You don't have to answer. I can see that it hadn't."  
  
He almost fell over. It felt like the room was spinning. Almost didn't feel like this was reality.  
  
But it was. _Fuck_, it was. He stood there, looking at Aziraphale. The very same Aziraphale that he'd been horrified would detach from him, over this, standing next to him and calmly implying that he didn't give one little shit about the idea that Crowley might be feeling Lustful toward him.  
  
This whole time, he had _believed_ that voice inside his head:  
  
_This is **not** acceptable. He's an angel. Lust is a sin. One of the worst sins. Angels can't abide by sins. It's like oil and water. Disgusting to them. He's disgusted with you. He'll put up a wall between you. Kiss that little fairy tale future goodbye._  
  
It had been the only narrative that made any sense. But now Aziraphale was straight up telling him he was wrong.  
  
He'd been too afraid to even spend five seconds in the same room with him, since they'd gotten back. Definitely too afraid to stick around and let him have the chance to say anything about it.  
  
So he ran away... and he'd kept running, until Aziraphale wouldn't _let_ him run anymore. He caught him by the tail and made him do what they were always going to have to do; face each other, and talk about this.  
  
And _fuck,_ he still had so much work to do to get good at this talking thing. This had been a huge misunderstanding, and it was all his fault. Because it was easier to run. Because he wouldn't talk.  
  
He felt like shit.  
  
"Crowley? Are you with me, love?"  
  
Crowley turned back toward him, and their eyes met again. "So, it turns out I'm a goddamned idiot. What else is new?" He grumbled, brows furrowing severely. There was something like shame at the fringes of that expression.  
  
It made Aziraphale bite his tongue. The habitual scolding for blaspheming that had almost come out turned into a scolding for something else entirely. "What are you talking about? You're not. I don't care how many times I have to tell you that before you get it."  
  
"I freaked out because I was _100% sure_ you were disgusted with me."  
  
"Well, I'm not. But that doesn't make you an idiot for thinking so." He assured, gently pushing Crowley's shoulder to steer him toward the sofa he'd just vacated moments before. "Sit down, and let's talk about this. I don't mean Talk. No circles. I just mean... you and me. We can work this out."  
  
Crowley sat, but he did so rigidly, hands on his knees, his whole body practically vibrating with shame. "I'm sorry. About... that. This. The whole thing. I let go, and let myself feel what you were doing to me. Focused too hard on that and didn't control myself. It just felt... really good, y'know? And I wanted to feel good. I haven't... been able to feel good, very much, lately. I didn't realize how my body was reacting to it, until it was too late."  
  
"It happens, Crowley. More often than you'd think. Sure, I was a bit shocked, but I knew to expect it. It was mentioned as a possibility. It doesn't bother me that you became aroused from me touching you. It's flattering, actually."  
  
"How can you be so calm about this?" His tone reached out for the understanding he needed so desperately but just couldn't achieve on his own. It didn't make any sense. Aziraphale should be even more freaked out than he was about this.  
  
"It's just a bodily function. It happens when you've Made An Effort."  
  
Again, Crowley was stopped in his tracks.  
  
_What. The. Fuck._  
  
"When did you..." He muttered, in disbelief. _He'd_ first Made The Effort himself, perhaps somewhat begrudgingly, millennia ago. Shortly after he Fell. It was basically a requirement of a demon, part of the job description, as it were. They had to be ready to employ whatever tactics necessary in the pursuit of fulfilling both their assigned and extracurricular temptations. He wasn't an incubus, but that didn't mean he'd never have to do it. Of course, that was one tactic he didn't use unless he absolutely had to, and he'd only employed it a mere handful of times in his servitude of Satan. He'd never been able to really get into it, and a couple of times he'd been disgusted. Clearly he had the _opposite_ problem here, though.  
  
His overwhelming reaction to the thought of Aziraphale Making The Effort was one of immense interest, despite everything. If he was completely honest with himself, he wasn't shocked over that fact, though. Not only because of the incident. Sparse though the moments were, sprinkled through time, the only little itches of true desire he'd ever had... had always stemmed from _something_ to do with the angel.  
  
In the past, they'd been relieved simply by the passage of time. He could throw them away in a pit somewhere and forget them. He hadn't needed to actually _do_ anything about it before. They hadn't warranted as much thought as this latest occurrence. He got the feeling somehow that there'd been a line crossed that he couldn't turn back from now.  
  
"Does it matter so much?" Came the answer, finally. Crowley's eyebrows raised at that piss poor attempt at deflection, and he summoned up his finest _'if you're gonna bullshit you have to do better than that'_ expression. It made the angel sigh, put out at being so easily called out, even if no words were exchanged. But of course he would've been. He couldn't _actually_ think he was going to get out of explaining something so major.  
  
"Well, in truth, I haven't. Not yet, anyway. But I _know_ things, and I've also learned things. While you've been dancing around me this week, I've been doing research. I've found that... those _certain_ activities... produce a quite potent cocktail of positive brain chemicals. In such a quantity that you can scarcely hope to touch it with other, _non-destructive_ means. I admit that I'd never really thought about such things much before. Not that I was specifically _avoiding_ them, it just didn't cross my mind at all. But I think it would help you, as another way to 'naturally' help with the healing process. I'm not against it. In fact, I actually... actively enjoy the idea of it. It's done purely as a bonding exercise, by some, did you know? I have to admit, the more I study, the more fascinating I find humans and their spectrums. Their fluidity, too."  
  
So, when it got down to it, Aziraphale was... propositioning him. In his own... oddly clinical, but _so him_ way.  
  
The path this had all gone down was so ridiculous, and he was _nervous as Hell,_ but in the end, he couldn't help finding Aziraphale's motivation adorable. It was _very_ him.  
  
Despite the hitch, he was feeling enormously fond of him lately, having experienced his ongoing, selfless attempts to help him heal. He was an angel and that's what he did, true. But the dedication was truly something to behold.  
  
He supposed there were no better position to hold than to be loved by an angel, to be held above all else by a being whose _specialty_ was love. _His_ angel in particular had taken it to a whole other level. He had taken to studying ancient arts, following the line of mind healing all the way from its root, just to have a chance at helping him process the mental damage he'd taken during the lead up to the Little Armageddon that Couldn't.  
  
It was effort of a different type than what was on the table right now, but it was immense, nonetheless.  
  
While he mulled over all of this, Aziraphale just stared at him, though. He could see that he was trying not to, but it was happening. "What do you think?"  
  
"Dunno." The demon replied, unhelpfully. Truthfully, stopping to really think about it gave him a fresh wave of jitters in the pit of his stomach. Part of him, perhaps enough to call it _most_ of him, wanted to accept. It was obvious now that he was attracted. It was his first experience with the feeling, but he wasn't stupid. He could tell.  
  
The _problem_ was the _other_ part... the part that was deeply terrified that by coming together with him like that he'd be defiling his angel, and that was what had been bothering him the most since the accident. He kept hearing it.  
  
_He'll Fall. He's going to Fall, because of you. Because of your disgusting Lust. You'll Tempt him into bed, and he'll Fall._  
  
That was something that voice was telling him that wouldn't be counteracted so easily.  
  
At times it felt like Aziraphale had edged _so close_ to the jumping off point. What if this was enough to push him over it? Was it really alright, if an angel and a demon... _knew_ each other, that way?  
  
No, it couldn't be. Right? What was the point of separating angel from demon if they were allowed to be together like that?  
  
_He's going to Fall. He's going to Fall. He's going to Fall._  
  
He had to protect him from that fate. Becoming a demon had been forced on _him_ without his consent, so he knew what that felt like. He would deny that pool of boiling sulphur his angel no matter what it took.  
  
"Stay with me, sweetest."  
  
Crowley's previously unfocused gaze dropped to watch as his hands fisted against his knees. "I can't... _want_ you, like this. I _can't_. It's not okay."  
  
Aziraphale's hand touched his arm. "Crowley, it _is_ okay." The demon's head moved in a surprised arc, from the floor to the point of contact and then up to Aziraphale's face, locking eyes with him.  
  
He wanted so desperately to be able to just believe him without question. Aziraphale was just about the only thing he had faith in, anymore. But rather than helping, that fact just made things more complicated. The credence he gave to his angel's word was having a direct war with the terror he felt when he thought of his Fall.  
  
"I... fuck." He couldn't maintain the contact for long. He turned his head away again and frowned deeply at the floor. "I've never had... _this_, before. Sometimes I had to do stuff, for Hell, but I didn't really _want_ to do it, y'know? Wasn't my idea. But when it involves you... I've gotta be honest. It's come up before, here and there, but it didn't _take me over_ like this. I could push it away and get the fuck over it. It _scares_ me, how much I want you now. Even if it doesn't bother you, it's dangerous for you. You'll be tainted if you let me get my hands on you like that. If you end up like me, _because_ of me, I..."  
  
"So _that's_ what all of this has been about? You think I'd Fall? Now, of all times?" Aziraphale reached out and placed his hand on the opposite side of Crowley's face, using his fingertips to gently turn his head and make him look at him again. "If I were going to be cast from Grace simply for loving you, I would've done already. Many times over. I may not have acted on it until recently, but once you took my heart, you didn't let it go."  
  
The sweet words made him falter, but also made him feel worse, somehow. "It isn't about you loving me, or not loving me... our side or no, you're an _angel_. Are you _really_ telling me it's _okay_ for you to feel Lust?"  
  
The Principality hummed thoughtfully. It wasn't like the consideration was completely without its merits. He couldn't exactly blame Crowley for worrying, so he'd just have to do his part to help assuage that. "I will give you that Lust _is_ a cardinal sin. Normally, it probably _would_ be met with some sort of divine retribution."  
  
Crowley started to speak up then, but Aziraphale was ready for it, and pressed a soft finger against his lips. "Let me finish. Yes, all of that is certainly true. However--and this is the important bit you'll want to pay attention to-- it is not so if that Lust is entangled with a pure love. That is the way the Almighty originally intended things to go, as far as I can understand it. It's all become a bit muddled for humans over the ages, but not so for us. If you were a human, I would definitely be in trouble. It would be taking advantage, no matter what the circumstances were. But since you're not..."  
  
Trying to follow the logic was making Crowley dizzy. "I don't really get it."  
  
But Aziraphale, bless him, was prepared for this, too. "If there is the presence of Agape; pure, unconditional love, it tempers the presence of Lust, and said Lust instead becomes Eros. A deeply passionate, romantic love. Some simplify and call it Erotic love because of the root. Semantics aside, the point is basically the same. I love you in every way that's possible for me to do. If I were to express that love in some kind of physical manner, it wouldn't be a sin."  
  
"It wouldn't be a sin, even if I Tempt you into it?" The pressing felt necessary, somehow. His intentional Temptations were few and far between. He didn't actually know if he'd ever done it _unintentionally_. He wasn't even sure if that was possible, but it could be.  
  
But Aziraphale laughed. It was a genuine, deep laugh. "My dear, I know it's probably going to positively _shatter_ your ego when I tell you this, but you've never once_ actually_ Tempted me. Whenever I let you _think_ you had, it was because it suited me to do so." He'd read Crowley like one of his favorite books, watching the myriad of expressions flit over his features, and taking it all in with that fond smile plastered on his face. "Besides all that, when you get right down to it... I haven't necessarily been as afraid of cardinal sins as I should be, have I? If you called me gluttonous, you wouldn't be the first one to do so. And look, here I am, sitting in front of you. Still your angel. I wouldn't dream of trying to pressure you into something you don't want to do, darling, but do believe me when I say _that_ need not occupy even a single moment of your thoughts. Believe in me."  
  
Asking Crowley to do that was as simple as asking him to breathe. There was nothing he believed in more than Aziraphale. Never had been, never would be.  
  
It wasn't _Aziraphale_ that was the problem.  
  
Was this loophole big enough? Was it a demon sized loophole? It was just another form of self pleasure where Aziraphale was concerned. Not much more offensive than the fact that he'd made a hobby out of eating, probably. They were calling it Gluttony, now. Was that really equal to Lust, though? Was it really not a sin, just like that, since Aziraphale loved him?  
  
Was it... okay?  
  
He heard Aziraphale's voice again, then. Bouncing 'round the inside of his head like it often did.  
  
_Crowley, it **is** okay._  
  
_Believe in me_.  
  
"Okay... okay." He said, taking a deep breath. He wasn't quite sure _he_ believed it was okay, but he believed that _Aziraphale_ believed. Maybe that was enough to get him through. "But I don't think I can..." He trailed off. The ideas that his body was imprinted with and what he could actually handle were two entirely different things at the moment. "I dunno."  
  
As always, Aziraphale matched his step perfectly. A hand reached up to affectionately muss his hair. "I'm just as fine _not_ doing it, beloved. This wasn't meant to prod you, not in the slightest. I just wanted you to know where I stand on the matter, first and foremost. Obviously it's been bothering you."  
  
It was an offer of a way out, but Crowley found he couldn't easily take it. "I want you to know what it feels like." He couldn't help but think an orgasm would be a fine gift for a creature such as Aziraphale... if it was really okay for him to have one.  
  
"I don't want you to push yourself, especially for my sake."  
  
The demon's head shook vehemently at that. "It's not... pushing. Not sure how to explain the difference. But... I _do_ know I can do this for you. Will you let me?"  
  
Aziraphale paused. He wasn't sure he liked this. Crowley _said_ he wasn't pushing himself, but something in him couldn't quite believe that. "Try. I want to understand what you're thinking."  
  
_You're going to be telling him you want him to use you. Do you think he'll accept that?_  
  
Was that really it? _Did_ he want to be used? Is that what this meant? Crowley's lips pressed tightly closed. He didn't know how to say what he was thinking. But... if he couldn't talk about it, he probably shouldn't be doing it in the first place. He growled, letting his teeth pinch against the inside of his bottom lip for a second before forcing himself to speak again. "Guess I just... want to give you attention. Touch you. _Something_. You're the most hedonistic person I've ever known. Giving you pleasure is probably the best thing I could ever do for you."  
  
"It's not supposed to be about me."  
  
"Sometimes you're gonna have to let it be." Crowley took one of Aziraphale's hands in his, turning to slide over into his lap. "I'll never do anything you _really_ don't want me to do, but... you have to let me do something for you _sometime_. I don't just mean _this_, either. I haven't figured out what else I can do for you other than cook once in a while, but I'll find something. Don't get confused, your attentiveness is something I appreciate so much. Definitely don't want you to stop. I... need that, more than I could probably ever tell you. But I also need you to let me give you some of that back. Can't sit here and take the idea that it's all about me all the time. I won't. You aren't my fucking babysitter. You're my partner, y'even said so yourself, and I want to treat you like one."  
  
Crowley had settled it in his head now. It _wasn't_ that he wanted to be used, necessarily. If it had been, he could've accepted it. Wasn't like it'd be the first time he'd run up against the concept, and he didn't think he'd object if that's how it ended up. He just wanted Aziraphale to be happy, to please him, more than anything else. But that wasn't it. Aziraphale would never want to use him, and for his part it was just that he wanted to try to even the balance between them. He _did_ want things to be mutual here, to the highest degree that he was able to fulfill that desire. He had faith that he could get Aziraphale to understand that, since he knew deep down the angel felt the same.  
  
"You're so sweet. I certainly wouldn't stop you from a little reciprocation, so don't misunderstand me either." He wore that signature smile, squeezing Crowley's hand fondly. "But I told you, I don't do what I do with expectation that you'll do something for me in return."  
  
"I know that. I heard you." He bit his tongue, forcing himself to keep the eye contact. "Look... this, what we're talking about right now? It isn't something I'd wanna do simply because I feel like I owe you. I just... want to, if it's really okay. You're saying it's okay, and I'm... gonna trust in that. But I just... I'd like it if you just let _me_ take care of _you_ right now."  
  
If he was being honest, it was also the most he could accept. He absolutely could _not_ lay it all on the line. He couldn't risk Aziraphale like that. Especially not for something so stupid as getting his rocks off. The very thought of it was so absurd that it wouldn't even truly hit his brain properly. It was bouncing off. Probably a good thing, as he'd likely have another incident if it did. He was very convinced in this moment _that_ was still very far from okay.  
  
If he flipped this on its head and made it about Aziraphale instead, if he was just helping Aziraphale get to that height, _then_ it was alright. Probably. The angel himself certainly seemed to think the concept at the baseline wouldn't get him into trouble, and his explanation appeared to be fairly sound. The end result, when distilled down, wasn't much different than what he got from food. A deep, personal pleasure.  
  
"I'm hearing you, too. I am." His expression was shy as he glanced toward the floor. "For once, I only wonder if I might be just a touch _too_ selfish if I let you do that."  
  
Crowley took advantage of that open spot that had briefly been exposed in Aziraphale's defense, pouncing on it. Slinking his way in through the gap in his armor. "Oh, you're an angel. I don't think you _can_ be too selfish." He hummed, pleased with himself as he watched the other melt, just like he had the first time. Whether it was _all_ from the very intentional phrasing or something else had sneaked its way in there too, he wasn't quite sure.  
  
Those blue eyes closed, and he sat still, thinking it over for a moment that definitely seemed much longer than it actually was. Eventually, that familiar, fond smile returned to his face as he turned to look at Crowley again. "Well... alright. I'm not going to fight you. It's not that I wouldn't like your attention, after all."  
  
"Yeah? I think y'probably better like it, 'cause I've got a lot to give. For my money, you're gonna be so pleased by what I do you'll want to come back and slap yourself silly for trying to be so chivalrous." He purred, giving a sly grin as he wiggled in the angel's lap.  
  
"Oh my, someone's very confident all of a sudden. Was that really all I had to do to unleash you?" Aziraphale chuckled, twisting a strand of Crowley's hair around his finger and watching the coil unwind again when he let it go. "Perhaps you'd better just go ahead and show me what you can do before your head grows so large we can't fit in the room anymore."  
  
It was a false bravado, really. Meant more to steady himself and help _create_ that confidence rather than to show a confidence that was already there. But it seemed like it had still hit the way it was supposed to, regardless.  
  
"Well, as long as I have your permission." The demon hummed, directly into Aziraphale's ear. When had he leaned into that position? "Gonna need you to tell me. Might get annoying. Might've already. Want you to be okay with everything I do."  
  
A surge of affection found its way to Aziraphale's heart again, and his hand grasped for purchase, finding the back of Crowley's head. "My love, _absolutely_ nothing is annoying about you checking up on me. In fact, I've been secretly admiring you for it this entire time. The fact that you want to ask before you do anything is so precious. I wouldn't have expected it, necessarily, but I do like it." He told him, letting out a pleased sigh as Crowley kissed the sensitive skin under his ear. "If doting on me is really something that would bring you pleasure too, then... by all means."  
  
Those were precisely the words he had been waiting for. "Oh, Angel. You have no idea."  
  
There was no other way to describe what he did next than to say it was a slither. He moved down Aziraphale's body in one smooth motion, his hands following slowly behind and lingering just enough over him to make it enticing as he touched him through his clothes.  
  
The angel stared at him, wide eyed. "Right here?"  
  
He nodded in response as his knees hit the floor. "Right here. Get comfortable."  
  
"What are you... going to do?"  
  
"I've heard that... I'm, uh, good with my tongue. Thought maybe I'd get your opinion on the matter. Sound good to you?"  
  
Aziraphale meant to answer, he really did, but he was _very_ distracted by the feeling of those hands slowly sliding against his thighs, to the inside edge of his leg and out again. It was sending electric shocks straight toward his groin and made it hard to focus. He hadn't felt anything like this before.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
"...what?" Crowley's call reached him somehow, and he shook his head as he looked at his face, as if physically shaking the disorientation off. "Oh... oh. Yes. Sorry."  
  
Despite himself, Crowley had a little chuckle over just how the stimulation was affecting his angel. "You like to be touched here, huh?" He hummed, continuing to repeat the little motion just to watch the jolts shoot across Aziraphale's face. He was like an open book.  
  
"It... it feels nice."  
  
"Oh, believe me, I can tell." Crowley's voice dropped an octave, and he curled his fingers to scrape his nails over his Principality's legs through the fabric. He was rewarded with a choked little sound and redirected his gaze to the bulge he could now see forming in Aziraphale's trousers. He was definitely going to save this information for later. But for now...  
  
His eyes moved back up, scanning over Aziraphale's torso on their way up to his face. The way his breath was catching while he was touched was worth letting his gaze linger over, even if just for a moment. Their eyes locked when he reached the top again, and through that connection Aziraphale understood the thought that was floating at the top of his pool without him even needing to say anything. "You can touch me... there, too. Please, darling." He wasn't quite whiny at the end of that response, but he was on the very borderline.  
  
It only took but an instant before Crowley obeyed the request, moving one of his hands in to trace a finger along the outline he could make out through the other's trousers. He briefly thought about leaning in to mouth him through the fabric too, but reconsidered. Something like that might be too much for Aziraphale at this point.  
  
He settled for adding in the rest of his fingers, using more pressure and sending out a shiver that matched Aziraphale's as he felt him up through his pants. He was definitely hard now. So much so that it occurred to Crowley leaving him pent up would probably get painful after a while since he wasn't used to the sensation. "Can I?" He asked, making an indicating motion with his finger toward the fly of the angel's pants.  
  
"Yes." The tone made it sound like he wanted few things in this world more than for Crowley to do that, so he did. He slid the button out from its hole and yanked the zip down to the end of its track. His fingers played against the waistband of the other's briefs, and he looked up again for confirmation. He got it in the form of a sharp nod, and wasted no time in rolling the layers of clothing down just enough that he could pull him out.  
  
He breathed an appreciative little sigh when he laid eyes on Aziraphale's cock. Despite not knowing much about the specifics of it all, the other had probably made just about the perfect Effort. Well, the perfect one for Crowley, that is. _Absurdly_ thick, but not anywhere near short enough to be called stubby. Only a _very slight_ lean, toward the angel's left side. So slight that if he hadn't been looking for it, he would've missed it. Warmed to a cute pink color at the tip.  
  
He had to apply a heavy hand to force himself to focus on the task in front of him and not fly off into the fantasies that his hormones wanted him to. Panic would _definitely_ come destroy the mood if he poked at the boundary _any_ harder, and he _really_ didn't want that right now. He already felt like he had ruined things enough that way.  
  
So yes, the _other_ thing he very much intended to apply a heavy hand to was that hot cock standing before him. He poked his tongue out, licking over his palm to slick his hand at least to some degree before reaching over to flex his fingers around it. The skin was velvety, and he marveled slightly at the feel of it while he gave the first few tentative strokes.  
  
But tentative soon turned to purposeful, and again he added more pressure into what he was doing. He wasn't _too_ forceful, but from what he could glean so far, the angel liked it better when his touch had some weight behind it.  
  
The scent of him, having been gradually working its way up to his nose since he'd pulled him out was slowly driving Crowley mad. He wanted to taste him now.  
  
"Gonna use my mouth now, okay?" He asked, moving to do so when he received the nonverbal go ahead. He leaned in to press experimental kisses to the blonde's exposed thighs, then stroked Aziraphale a few more times, watching him closely. His face betrayed every bit of the new sensations he was feeling, and it was definitely feeding straight into Crowley's desire to please him, only urging him on.  
  
The demon's tongue made its grand appearance then, poking out to curl its way around the very tip of Aziraphale's cock, then swirling its way down to the base, back up, and back down again. He leaned in, gently mouthing over the whole of him before moving a hand to grip and steady him, dragging the head over his bottom lip.  
  
He'd intended to see what Aziraphale liked best, trying out all these different things, but it was hard to tell at this stage. Clearly, he liked everything, and well, he _would_. He'd never felt any of this before.  
  
HIs tongue pressed firmly against the fat vein on the side, following its trail all the way down and all the way back up.  
  
He then blanketed the entire length with wet kisses, pouring reverence into each and every one with all the effort he had in him. He finished that off with a carefully pressed peck on the very top, making his lover squirm in his seat.  
  
"Oh... I can hardly _stand_ you, you wicked thing. So _lovely_." Aziraphale sighed out, near breathless by the sound of it. This was interesting information, because he didn't place as much importance on breathing as Crowley did. It wasn't quite as much of a habit for him. But even so... right now, you wouldn't be able to tell.  
  
A smirk played across Crowley's lips, and it only fueled him as he watched Aziraphale react to it. "If you think you can't stand me _now_..." Having been a snake had its various advantages, and in this context, chief among those advantages had to be his near total lack of a gag reflex. With devious intent, nakedly shown in the glint of his amber eyes as he fixed them on Aziraphale's, he pushed his head down as far as it could go, totally impaling himself on the other's thick cock. He easily swallowed him whole, taking him to the root in one go, nose pressed flat against soft skin once he'd taken him as far down his throat as space restrictions would allow.  
  
"**_Crowley_**." His name fell from between the angel's lips like a benediction, and he found that somehow rather than making him shrink away, as a proper demon probably would at that, actually he just had an all consuming urge to hear it again, and he began to slightly bob his head in attempt to achieve that goal, pleased as he drew out a low sigh. His eyes were open to mere slits and unfocused now, as he thought only of Aziraphale.  
  
This was for him. All for him.  
  
In this instance, more than ever, he couldn't help but be grateful _not_ to be a proper demon. All he wanted now was to keep making Aziraphale feel this way, to pleasure him as much as he possibly could. Enough that he was totally lost in it and couldn't even begin to think of anything else. This whole thing was a new avenue of showing his angel just how much he meant to him. He had to use this opportunity to the best of his abilities.  
  
It occurred to him again, just then, that this was Aziraphale's very first time with any of this. It was his responsibility to give the angel his first ever carnal pleasure, his first climax. It suddenly felt like the most high pressure job he would ever have in his long life, to make an angel ascend in a way not thought possible. He was reminded that some referred to an orgasm as akin to a religious experience; getting closer to God and all that, and considering that also made up the crux of what he had been worried about, the irony of it all would've made him laugh if he weren't preoccupied.  
  
A spike of heat carved its way straight through him at the thought that he was the only one, hopefully, that would ever be with Aziraphale like this. That only added more fuel to his reserves, ensuring doubly so that he would have no energy left unspent by the time they were finished here. He wanted to impress him, to make him feel like his Effort was worth it.  
  
The reason why, he guessed, was obvious. For the first time, he wasn't doing this because he _had_ to. This wasn't a random mortal he was just lying down with as a means to an end. This was _Aziraphale_, a being that he'd spent damn near his entire existence with. They were two entities, drawn so close together through every single grain of sand in the hourglass of time since Creation, that it almost made him actually believe in the human concept of soulmates. Perhaps... observance of beings such as themselves was actually what had initially kicked off that philosophy in the first place. Either way, he supposed he'd just have to put this realization forward as _even more_ effort.  
  
Fingers threaded through his already mussed copper hair, breaking his train of thought, and he looked up again. His heart lurched, so hard it almost physically ached, at what he saw. Aziraphale's eyes were a bit glossed over, but he had never seen so much unbridled affection radiating from them. That _really_ meant something, since he'd seen varying degrees of love blossom on the angel's face many times throughout their long companionship, even before it was directly turned on him in recent times.  
  
He had done his utmost to continually show his love to Crowley ever since the first confession. In little ways, mostly; like lingering kisses pressed to his knuckles as he woke up on the quiet mornings, those lazy afternoons resting with Crowley's head in his lap and his fingers running through his hair absentmindedly as he read, holding his demon's hand from across the table as they shared their particular brand of easy companionship at dinner time. He'd tried out a plethora of new endearments, too. Some stuck, some didn't.  
  
All of these things were appreciated as deeply as Crowley was able.  
  
The demon whined a little, feeling unbearably fond of Aziraphale all of a sudden. It was a near constant sensation lately, actually, but sometimes it hit him in a particularly strong wave like this. He reached up, grasping for Aziraphale's free hand, easily slipping his fingers between his angel's when he lifted it up for him, lacing them together to give a light squeeze. In this way he easily communicated what he was feeling, what he couldn't tell him right now since his silver tongue was otherwise occupied.  
  
Said tongue poked out, then, rhythmically flicking and tapping at Aziraphale's base. This elicited a rather sharp twitch, which pleased the demon. He caught the first little hint of salt on his tongue when he pulled his head back again and grinned to himself around his mouthful.  
  
He backed off even more, dragging his mouth slowly up the shaft until only the head was still between his lips, pressing them tightly against the ridge and then letting his tongue give it a once over. He mouthed over the crown, then pulled back the rest of the way and lapped at the tip like Aziraphale was an ice lolly, working him over and cleaning away every salty little bead that tried to escape.  
  
Again, his Principality squirmed in his seat. "Crowley, I...?"  
  
He would've been able to read the signs without that, but it definitely helped to telegraph that Aziraphale was reaching his limit. "Yeah. I can push you the rest of the way from here. Want me to?"  
  
"_Yes._"  
  
"Your wish is my command, Angel." He hummed, pressing a fond kiss to the slit, chuckling lowly when it made the clearly aching cock twitch and Aziraphale gave something that sounded suspiciously like a whine.  
  
He dove in after that, took him to the root again, and purposefully growled once there, the sound rumbling deep down in his throat and chest. Then he was looking up at him through his lashes, his free hand digging its fingers into the blonde's thigh and scratching over the little stretch of bare skin that had been exposed by his pants being pushed down.  
  
It didn't take anything more to do him in.  
  
"Agh?!" The dam broke with that undignified, strangled cry, and Aziraphale went careening straight off the edge into his first ever, completely mind bending orgasm, which had taken hold of him rather abruptly. He held onto Crowley's hand for dear life.  
  
At first, he saw nothing but white.  
  
Immediately, he understood why humans did this. Not that he had _thought_ about it. Not that he _could_ think about it (or _anything else_) right now. It simply entered his head as fact, and settled as if it were a tenet that had always existed there. Several lightbulbs overloaded and popped in the nearby vicinity, including a few of the street lamps, making it sound like there were fireworks going off in the neighborhood.  
  
But even if there actually were, it would be nothing on the display going on in his vision. Had he any wits about him at all, he might've even thought he was seeing an _entirely new_ spectrum of color. His wings fluttered and burst forth from his back, entering the mortal plane unbidden and gracefully folding themselves over Crowley of their own accord to cocoon the two of them together as he rode the waves of what was commonly regarded (and quite rightly so in his opinion, if he could manage the coherent thought to form it) as the highest magnitude of mortal sensation's capability.  
  
For his part, Crowley kept his mouth working through the whole thing, drawing it out, and swallowed down every bit that he was offered as it poured over his tongue and into his throat, sighing pleasantly at the sweet taste of his partner. Probably the fault of something he'd eaten earlier. Not that he was complaining, of course. He'd actually been unsure if this part was going to hurt him, consuming the 'divine essence' and all that. So, he was relieved to find that instead of being burned by it, Aziraphale's seed simply spread a _pleasantly_ warm feeling through his body as it went down. Maybe the divinity actually had no hold over this. Was it just a little too wicked? It was probably simply to do with the fact that it was a part of Aziraphale's earthly form, more than that. But it was still an amusing thought, and one that it was impressive he had allowed himself to have in the first place without it turning sour.  
  
Once he was sure there was no more to be taken, he finally pulled off of the other with a somewhat lewd 'pop', nuzzling fondly into his leg and feeling soft feathers brush against his skin as the released wings swept over him protectively.  
  
The sight of those wings was so calming it simply couldn't be understated. They were as pure and white as ever. Unbelievably soft as they brushed against him. He looked up toward Aziraphale's face, about to say something... but whatever that something was, it died on his lips before it even had a chance.  
  
Aziraphale was positively glowing in the aftermath. Given about half a step farther, he might _literally_ be glowing. His mouth was slightly agape, soft puffs of breath falling from between his lips. His blue eyes were hazy and he looked a bit disoriented... somehow that sparked just an ounce of pride deep down inside Crowley, and he greedily drank in the sight from his position with his cheek resting against the other's hip.  
  
"_Shit_. Angel, you're bloody gorgeous." He praised, voice a bit raspy from the exertions he'd put his now raw throat through. But it was worth it, to make Aziraphale feel like this. To take an angel higher than he'd ever been was an accomplishment on its own. Getting to see him looking the way he was right now was just a bonus. He couldn't help but be positively enthralled.  
  
The lazy curl of a finger beckoned him upwards, and he moved to obey, surprised as that finger then pressed against his throat and he felt the tingle of the irritation being healed. "You don't like it?" He asked, listening as his voice warped back to normal in the course of the question and stretching over to peck at the angel's chin. "I didn't want it to hurt you." Came the reply, and the way the voice sounded cleaved straight through Crowley.  
  
It was sex-drunk, and, perhaps more importantly; low, a lot unlike Aziraphale's normal speaking voice, and he found that he quite liked it. Way more than he should have. "You in the mood to, uh..."  
  
"I think perhaps I should be the one asking you that question."  
  
Well, _his body_ was certainly in the mood, at any rate. Especially after hearing Aziraphale sound like _that_. His spine was very pleasantly tingly. He successfully batted back the memory from the last time he'd felt like this with a well placed breathing cycle. He had no time of day for a freak out right now when things were so calm and nice between them.  
  
But was he _ready_ to take the big plunge? When it came down to it, probably not.  
  
Well, that was sugarcoating it, actually. _Definitely_ not. He still wouldn't even be able to actually entertain the idea without flying into a panic, if he had to guess. Didn't matter how horny he was, it did absolutely nothing to change that fact.  
  
"I... er... I don't... I don't think so." He almost tripped over himself to continue. "N-Not because of you. I..." Words failed him. He briefly worried of ruining the pleasant mood, but Aziraphale's hand on his arm quieted him. Spared him. "It's alright. I'm not taking it personally, love. I just want you to be comfortable."  
  
Again, the feeling struck him that he didn't deserve for someone to love him this much.  
  
"So, did you..."  
  
A flush crept up Crowley's neck when he realized what the other was trying to ask. "Uh... no."  
  
"Do you want me to--"  
  
Crowley cut him off, about half panicked. "No!" He let out a sharp breath and hissed at himself, afterwards. It had come out harshly. "Fuck. I'm sorry. I mean... no. It's okay, I'll do it myself." He fumbled with Aziraphale's pants, doing him back up before moving to rise to his feet.  
  
He tried to scramble away at that point, but Aziraphale caught him by the wrist. Not tightly enough to _force_ him to hang around, but the contact had been enough to stop him anyway. "You don't have to go. I mean... you can stay, you know. I'm fully aware of what you're going to be doing. Not being able to see it doesn't really make a difference."  
  
As much as part of him might have wanted to, Crowley couldn't deny that fact, logically. And somehow, in there... it had sounded sort of like Aziraphale _wanted_ to see it. As absolutely baffling as that idea was, it broke down his resolve pretty easily, and he sighed as he swallowed down that lump of potential embarrassment threatening to form and took a seat next to him. His leg bounced anxiously. "Just... don't _touch_ me, okay? Not right now."  
  
He thought that was reasonable. Aziraphale had gotten through his orgasm and landed alright on the other side, still in good standing. His wings had gone, now, but they had been clear proof that everything was still alright. Even so, he was quite sure that at this moment he couldn't handle the idea of direct reciprocation. Even the touch of his hand seemed over the line. But... if he got himself off while the angel just happened to be there, well... that wasn't anyone's fault, was it? A hands off policy was probably best for now, while he was fumbling around feeling things out.  
  
Then Aziraphale's hand touched his knee, and he jumped, but his leg stopped its jittery dance. "Sorry. I promise I won't touch you after this, love. I just wanted to tell you that you don't have to be so nervous. I spent a lot of time going to a club in Portland Place, toward the end of the 19th century. I went there to... well, to dance. I liked it. But some other people went there for slightly, shall we say, _different_ reasons. So, I've, er... seen some things, before. Accidentally."  
  
Crowley stared at him, dumbly. He barely noticed when Aziraphale took his hand away again. He'd been aware that Aziraphale spent a certain amount of time regularly doing _something_ in Portland Place. He'd noticed it, when he'd woken up from about 20 years of sleep after their fight in St. James's Park. He couldn't have imagined that he'd been in a place like _that_, though.  
  
He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or not. He chewed on the inside of his lip. For a very brief moment, he thought that maybe he wouldn't be able to go through with this after all. But then he was aware of something in the back of his head telling him to hurry the bloody hell up before he _actually_ lost his nerve and ran away. "You... you can look. Talk to me, kiss me if you want. Just keep your hands to yourself." He physically shook the thought of stopping away, moving his hands to pull his shirt up, pop the button of his jeans and draw the zip down. There was a part of him that was rapidly gaining the upper hand in this discussion, and that was the part that wanted to give Aziraphale the show he'd asked for. He could do this.  
  
He was breathing carefully, the front of his foot returning to tapping a nervous rhythm against the floor as he slowly uncurled his fingers. It wasn't the whole leg anymore, so it was an improvement. The thought that Aziraphale was watching him circulated 'round his brain in unending repetition as he swallowed sharply and gave a tentative squeeze to the now obvious bulge in his skin tight jeans. He hissed, shifting his knees a little wider so he could dig in more with his hand, rutting against his palm through the fabric. As embarrassing as it might've been, he couldn't remember being more turned on in his life. He was about ten times more amped up right now than he had been when the accident had happened, and he still also had the frustration from all of that swirling inside him, anyway.  
  
He quickly lost his patience and hooked his thumbs into the belt loops at the side of his jeans, raising his hips so he could pull them down to about mid-thigh. He wasn't wearing anything under them, so that very simple act left him exposed. His cock stood in front of him, full and firm like he couldn't remember it ever being before. It was an almost angry red at the tip from being ignored thus far, while he'd focused his attention on Aziraphale. He didn't need any further encouragement before curling his fingers around the shaft, the digits smoothing over his entire length in attempt to get some kind of relief.  
  
He could feel that his entire face was flushed. His lips were slightly parted, and sweat was breaking out on his forehead. His hand was already smoothing out as it slid against his flesh, dragging precome over his cock along with it.  
  
He'd just been thinking it probably wasn't gonna take him long to actually come. That he wasn't sure how good of a show this would be, in the end. Then Aziraphale leaned over and kissed him, and it kind of startled him. He'd told him he could, though, so the surprise was brief and quickly turned into a kind of hunger instead. Some part of him liked to think those lips had been specifically created to press against his, because they just fit so perfectly.  
  
"Oh, _Crowley_. You're so good to me, my dear. I'm glad you stayed. You look so lovely like this." Aziraphale's voice flooded over him, after the kiss broke. Those familiar tingles not only poured out of the base of his skull, but now they were pooling in his lower back, too.  
  
"You... you made me like this, Angel. Only you. Was only _ever_ you." He managed to breathe out, letting his head roll to the side opposite of where Aziraphale was sitting, blatantly exposing his neck to him.  
  
"Do you want me to kiss you, here?" What he heard close to his ear now was the voice of someone who was afraid to cross a line.  
  
His care made Crowley melt, and he panted as his cock twitched in his hand. He was getting close, and the affection was just feeding his desire at this point. "Please."  
  
"You are just so beautiful, Crowley." Aziraphale sighed, making the hairs on the back of the demon's neck stand up as he leaned in to slowly kiss a line up the side of it.  
  
"So handsome. The love of my life." The voice was a low hum against his ear and it just about made his nerves explode. "Everything I could ever want. Everything to me." The kisses on the way back down were wetter, and on the way back up again the angel's tongue was sliding across his skin by itself.  
  
"My darling, I love you."  
  
The praise and the attention to the sensitive area broke Crowley down, and at some point his brain stopped working. "_Fuck_. I'm yours. Bite me. Mark me." He panted.  
  
Aziraphale balked, and he stopped moving. "What?"  
  
Crowley was too deep into his pleasure to freeze, even though he hadn't meant to say that. He swallowed hard, deciding to commit to it. "...I said bite me."  
  
Aziraphale paused, seeming to consider it. In the end, he didn't actually bite him, though. What he _did_ do was clamp his mouth onto Crowley, teeth firmly locked behind lips, and suck at the skin hard enough to leave a small purple mark. After, he allowed his top lip to roll back and expose his teeth, letting them ghost over the skin.  
  
The mere _scrape_ of those teeth was all it took to make Crowley come undone. Just the _suggestion_ of it, and he was spilling against his hand, the pad of his thumb rubbing his slit almost raw as he rode it out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck..." The shudders hitting him were deep, and his eyes were still squeezed shut as he snapped his fingers to get rid of the mess.  
  
He felt the distinct sensation of being well fucked, even though he'd done all of the physical work on his own.  
  
Aziraphale swept him up, after he was spent and cleaned, and held him in his lap. Only _after_. He'd been so respectful of the boundary that Crowley had set for him that it almost made him fall even more in love if that was somehow possible. He settled himself with his head propped up in the crook of Aziraphale's neck. "I love you too, Angel. Always."  
  
At the end of the day, that's what they were, wasn't it. Lovers. They'd always been. And they were now, for sure. All they needed was each other.  
  
He couldn't have imagined their inevitable reconciliation would go like this, but he was glad it had. He had to always be glad for Aziraphale's seemingly infinite affection, and his knack for figuring things out. It was the one blessing in his life that he did believe in.  
  
"Did you still get everything you needed, love?"  
  
It felt like a bit of a loaded question somehow. It sounded like Aziraphale felt guilty about not doing exactly as he was asked. "Yeah. Was embarrassing at first, but... it turned nice pretty fast. There's nothing for you to feel bad for, by the way, so don't. Just came out. Didn't _actually_ want you to, uh, bite me. I like you better with a soft touch. The mark is nice, though. I'll keep it. And I _am_ yours, whether you wanna mark me or not." He nodded, raising his hand to lightly play with Aziraphale's bow tie as the angel melted in relief under him. "Y'got any more of that Chateauneuf du Pape knocking 'round?"  
  
Aziraphale raised an eyebrow at the sudden pivot, a delicious habit that had been bleeding over to him from Crowley since they started cohabiting. "I think there's still a couple of bottles unopened, yes."  
  
"Good. Wanna get pissed and cuddle you 'til I pass out."  
  
Aziraphale had to laugh at the imagery that produced, but he nodded. "Alright."  
  
Some things never change, he guessed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Literally the *only* concept I know that's outside the scope of the tv series/that's more book oriented is the whole 'angels are sexless unless they make an Effort' thing. I've seen people interpret it a few different ways in fics. My way of using the concept, at least in this instance, is that it's a one and done. Once the Effort is made, it's made. They can change what form that Effort takes, if they want, but there's no undoing it entirely. That's why the idea as it concerns Aziraphale's status is such a big deal and also why Crowley was able to pop The Problematic Boner™ in the last chapter lmfao
> 
> The skeleton of this chapter was originally about half of one of the three I started out with (somewhere in the process I decided to split it to make the whole story flow better), so I had a chunk of it written out already. Just had to tweak some things along the way and fill it out! Between porn and plot I think I specialize more toward the porn side so all in all I had an easy week this week 😂


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One hand held Aziraphale's, and the other nursed a small glass of the other night's miracle retrieved Chateauneuf du Pape. The angel had allowed him to have it, just the one glass. Wasn't enough to get him tipsy, much less drunk. It wouldn't effect anything except maybe to help keep him leveled off.

The second session was finally here, but significantly more spontaneously bumbled into than either of them had expected. Crowley had just gotten in the mood to talk. He was the one that asked to do it. _Directly_ asked.  
  
One hand held Aziraphale's, and the other nursed a small glass of the other night's miracle retrieved Chateauneuf du Pape. The angel had allowed him to have it, just the one glass. Wasn't enough to get him tipsy, much less drunk. It wouldn't effect anything except maybe to help keep him leveled off.  
  
"Y'know, they like to count me in when they talk about the rebellion. They make it sound like I was there with them, planning the whole damned thing."  
  
But, unlike the others, Falling hadn't been something he'd done on purpose. "I never asked to be a demon. I might've asked _questions_. Might've been curious. Back then She liked that even less than She does now. But I wasn't testing the limits of what God would allow me to do. No. Wrong place, wrong time. That was all it fucking took."  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Crowley pursed his lips. "You _really_ aren't going to like hearing this, Angel." For the first time, he actually and directly entertained the thought of not telling him.  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. "No holding back, now. And especially don't do it to spare my feelings. I'm fully capable of handling it."  
  
"I Fell because I was marked guilty by association. I didn't actually _do_ a single goddamned thing but ask questions. I didn't plot, I didn't scheme. I was just _there,_ with my friends, and that's all the proof that was needed to throw me down too. God didn't even give me a chance. No mercy. Didn't talk to me, didn't give me time to explain. Just threw me right out with all of the rest of them."  
  
His outburst about God moving in mysterious ways and not _talking_ to anyone suddenly had a new context. Aziraphale felt an urge to apologize, but squashed it down. He hadn't been involved in Crowley's Fall. And what good would it do, now? He didn't have any power to change what had happened.  
  
"I was... decently powerful, in Heaven. Helped create the universe, for fuck's sake. And what did I get out of it? Tossed into a pit of boiling sulphur, and I came out as an imp. Everyone else got some kind of fancy title, but I was the original bottom rung of the ladder. Got dragged down in their mess and they couldn't even give me the time of day. I've never been shit to Hell. I guess... that's why they made me come to Earth. The rest of them couldn't be bothered."  
  
His face briefly softened. "Maybe it was some kind of backwards blessing. I came to Earth and I got to meet you."  
  
The soft expression melted into something like guilt after a moment, though. "I always found you fascinating, and you were always in my heart, but at the same time... for the longest time, I was also upset at the idea of you. It was a weird clash inside me. Was jealous, probably. In my eyes, I hadn't done anything nearly as brazen as I watched you do, but _I_ was the one that Fell."  
  
"But that doesn't mean I..." His teeth clicked together, and his grip on Aziraphale's hand tightened as he fought to stay steady. "I never wanted you to Fall. _Never._ Not even in my most jealous moments. It was always an idea that terrified me to think about, once it popped in my head." His tone implored Aziraphale to believe him, which pulled at his heart. There were few things he could be more certain of than the fact that one of Crowley's biggest fears was his Fall. "I just... wanted to know why I had to Fall. Really, what had I done that was so bad? Pal around with some guys that weren't happy with how things were? Apparently that was a huge fucking deal."  
  
Aziraphale found that he had to agree with the general sentiment. Again he pushed back that instinct to apologize. Instead, he decided to seek more information. "What made them so unhappy?" He hadn't come along until a little later, but he didn't really understand what was so bad that the group had felt the need to revolt. Surely it had to have been better in the beginning.  
  
Crowley just shrugged, though. "I'm not sure, really. Heaven wasn't perfect, even back then. Not as bad as now... but it still had its flaws. She was more sensitive to criticism back then, too, I guess. Dunno." His eyes focused on Aziraphale's with a sudden sharpness. "Have they always treated you like that?"  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like you're a bother. Like you're dirt on the bottom of their shoes. Like you're something they'd be rid of in a heartbeat if they could." His tone was bitter, and it caused conflicting reactions in Aziraphale's heart.  
On the one hand, he was slightly concerned about Crowley's anger, but on the other... he couldn't help but be hooked by the clear reason for it.  
  
"I don't..." His eyebrows knitted together. "Why do you ask that?"  
  
"Because a big part of me almost fucked up our plan when I was told 'Shut your stupid mouth and die already'. I almost threw hands with 'the Archangel fucking Gabriel'."  
  
Aziraphale didn't know the phrase, but its meaning was easy enough to deduce. "You mean... fight him?" His head tilted to the side as he looked at Crowley. "You would've... done that, for me?"  
  
Despite himself, Crowley snorted. "A prick like him? Of course. Angel, please. There's nothing I _wouldn't_ do for you."  
  
"You've been making this abundantly clear to me, lately. I mean... I believed you, before, when you said so. But seeing it is another matter."  
  
"By the way... speaking of, I've, uh. I've really enjoyed what I've done for you." He said lowly, conveniently hiding his face behind the wine glass as he took a sip.  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him. He'd thought that fact had been pretty obvious, having seen the demon's reactions and how into it he got. But it felt nice for Crowley to tell him so, anyway. It had happened another time, since, and impossibly, he seemed even _more_ into it the second time. Perhaps because he had the experience to know it was safe. "Well, I should hope so. I don't want you to do anything you don't like."  
  
"I promise, I won't. But, y'know, it wouldn't be the first time, if I did."  
  
"Meaning?" Aziraphale's eyebrow raised, and it took all Crowley had in him to keep his concentration on the session and not let his mind wander to thoughts of how stupidly endearing that was.  
  
"...you ever wonder why I was so pissy when you found me in Rome?"  
  
"It had crossed my mind a time or two, yes." Crowley had never been outright antagonistic toward him, before that, or since, really. It had always seemed out of place for it to happen when they'd already known each other for a few thousand years.  
  
"Been sent to orchestrate the assassination of Caligula."  
  
The news struck Aziraphale as odd. Caligula had _started off_ as a kind emperor, but after he'd fallen ill a short time into his reign, something in him had changed. He became vengeful against those closest to him. Perhaps Hell was to blame for that, as well, actually. By the time he'd been assassinated, by all accounts, he was a complete tyrant. He'd have thought Downstairs would be very pleased by that, and want to keep him around.  
  
But taking him out _would_ sow chaos, he supposed. They'd always loved _that_ down there, too.  
  
"The humans couldn't manage on their own. They'd tried a few times already and things had fizzled out every time. The idea had almost left their heads, I think." Crowley shrugged. "They sent me to seduce a member of the Praetorian Guard: Cassisus Chaerea. I was supposed to be that last little bug in his ear that pushed him off the edge and made him do it." And clearly, he had succeeded. Aziraphale wasn't particularly interested in holding onto human history, but he knew enough of events like this, having been present for enough of them, to know that man _was_ the one that had killed Caligula. He had stabbed him first, at any rate.  
  
"Was already in an awful mood when I got to Rome. 'It's just a quick Temptation, Crawly.' They were still calling me that, then. Took a couple of centuries before _anybody_ got with the program. Took 'til Adam was on Earth for some of those slow-footed bastards." The put out look on his face almost made Aziraphale laugh. It might've, if not for the circumstances.  
  
"Anyway, they basically told me 'Just go and raw this one guy right quick and you'll be done.' like it was just that easy." And well, maybe it was, for _other_ demons. "Wanted to get a bit drunk before I had to go do it, try to numb myself up. Wasn't sure I had it in me, otherwise. And then I hear this voice behind me. You showing up _right then_ was just the icing on the fucking cake."  
  
"So _that's_ why you were so distracted when we went to the restaurant."  
  
It had been very obvious Crowley had _something_ on his mind that day, but the angel could've never guessed it was something like _this._  
  
"I was a wreck, if I'm completely honest with you. Knew I was gonna be a bigger one when all was said and done. Things didn't really go as planned, either. I got my hooks into him, but then he took control. He wasn't... he didn't _hurt_ me. Like, he didn't beat me or something. He was _fine_. It's just... dunno how to explain it. It's like, if modern showers were a thing back then, someone probably would've found me bawling in the bottom of one. I felt disgusting."  
  
"What _did_ you do?"  
  
Crowley's eyes closed for a short time, and he took another sip of his wine before answering. "I went back to the bar and got _properly_ pissed and then bawled in the floor of some broken down, abandoned villa instead."  
  
The mental image made Aziraphale feel like he was being stabbed in the chest. They weren't particularly close yet, at that point. Just close enough to speak to each other. Crowley wouldn't have been seeking him out. He wouldn't have told him any of this, yet. But having the idea of this now, Crowley hurt and alone, was almost too much for him to bear. "Perhaps I couldn't spare you, in the end... but I'm glad that I was able to at least distract you."  
  
Crowley looked away from him. "Yeah. 'S why I baited you into inviting me. I wanted to go with you, so I could have your company and I wouldn't have to think about it for another while... but turns out it wasn't that easy. I was pretty cold to you that day. I never said I'm sorry."  
  
Aziraphale's free hand moved to turn Crowley's head back to him. "Don't you dare apologize for that. You have the right to feel things, and the bad things are part of that. No one can have positive feelings all the time."  
  
Crowley smiled softly, turning his head a bit back toward Aziraphale's hand to press a kiss into his palm. "You seem to manage it pretty well."  
  
The angel rewarded the act with the smooth, fond glide of his fingertips over Crowley's cheek. "If we're speaking in terms of the present, I may be inclined to agree with you, for the most part. It hasn't always been that way."  
  
Their connection wobbled, the same way it had last time. Crowley had unknowingly pushed some of the healing energy back again. "Well, hey. If you ever wanna talk about stuff, I'm here to listen too. I'm not as good at knowing what to say as you, but I'll try it."  
  
"You're so sweet, darling."  
  
"I know, I know. I'm actually _made_ of sugar. 'S why you can't help calling me 'sweetest', right?" He grinned.  
  
"Precisely. You picked that one up so quickly. I'm impressed!"  
  
When the laughter faded, the room was silent, for a time. It seemed like an easy place to end the session. Natural. Aziraphale had just been about to ask if Crowley was alright with that when he spoke up again.  
  
"So, er... listen." He finally drained the last of his wine, setting the glass aside. After a second, he reconsidered, and snapped to clean it and send it back to its proper place. "Before we stop, there's something else I want to tell you, too. It's long past time for me to do it, really. Has to do with something we were talking about last time. I, uh... I never told you the whole story... about the Holy Water, I mean."  
  
Aziraphale's eyebrows both shot up. Crowley had seen this look before. It reminded him very much of the _'I'm analyzing you for several thousand years of possible missed depression'_ look that the other had given him in St. James' Park that fateful day. It had been tempered, now, but the base of it all was still the same.  
  
He put his hand up, indicating he wasn't finished, to prevent Aziraphale from flying off on any number of tangents of thought he could possibly come up with. "I told you _the truth_... I just didn't tell you the _whole_ truth. There's more to the bigger picture."  
  
"I'm listening."  
  
"I..." Everything in him wanted to look away, but deep down he knew he mustn't. He had to face this. He had to look Aziraphale in the eye. "The reason I blew up at you for dismissing what we had as fraternising." He said, feeling the need to point out his subject before everything got all jumbled up, as it had a tendency to do when he was talking like this. "It wasn't about that, by itself."  
  
"It wasn't?"  
  
Crowley shook his head. "I was actually upset because you didn't _get it._ You didn't get that I wasn't asking you for the Holy Water to use it as a suicide pill. Never was, and that's the truth. I would never have made a choice like that... to just _leave you_ here on your own because something went wrong."  
  
Aziraphale briefly felt sort of guilty for his snap interpretation of things at the time. Though it was true he hadn't known any better. It had been logical to think that, or at least he'd thought it had. He hadn't _known_ Crowley had such deep feelings about him.  
  
It wasn't like he'd asked, though, was it.  
  
"No, I was asking you for it... _shit,_ I don't know why it's so hard to just say it. It doesn't matter now." He cursed himself, pursing his lips. Tightening his hand again. "I asked you for it, because _I_ was afraid for them to find out, too. Of course, the idea of you Falling because you were involved with me has always been something that scared me more than anything, but Hell is a lot more heavy handed with a rogue agent. They'd be more direct. Knew they'd come after me, with intent to kill. They were always shit at checking up, but when they finally did, I needed to be ready. I wanted the Holy Water to be able to protect myself when that happened. Not _if, **when**._ And the reason I already knew I needed to do that... was because... if it came down to it, between you, and Hell? I was going to choose you. Even back then, I knew that."  
  
The room fell quiet as Aziraphale absorbed this information, or tried to. He was very keenly aware, by this point, that Crowley loved him deeply. It would be impossible to _not_ be able to see that. But this... _this_ seemed like a whole different level of devotion. He would've risked complete and total destruction just to stay by Aziraphale's side, even way back then.  
  
He still _had,_ really. Aziraphale had just fought him on the details, and this new side of the story made him feel a bit nauseous as the idea popped in his head that his stubbornness could've been the end of everything, if Hell had been in the least bit attentive. It was fortunate for them that Crowley was good at slipping through the cracks.  
  
"I'm sure I don't have to tell you that those 'other people' didn't exist. I _did_ need you. I _always_ needed you, I was just an idiot. I'm an even bigger idiot when I get angry."  
  
"Again, you can't count me out, if you're going to say that. _Especially_ not in this case. I was the one that stormed off without _hearing_ you. The feeling was most definitely _not_ mutual, and that's why I was angry. That was why I ran away from you. The words I'd spoken couldn't have been farther from the truth, as it turned out. 'I'm not an idiot'? No, I most certainly _was_ one."  
  
"I don't blame you for taking it at face value, Angel. Maybe I did then, but not now. It wasn't your fault." At that point in time, and especially in comparison to where they were now, the connection between them was still sort of tenuous. Aziraphale had little reason to put things together and realize the request was deeper than it seemed on the surface.  
  
"What did you do, after that?"  
  
"Well, mostly I_ wondered_ what I was gonna do. There was no way I could sit and explain it to you like I'm doing now. If I could've done it then, I would've. It would've saved both of us a lot of headaches." Although if he had to guess it probably would've created some different headaches too.  
  
"So, I... I dunno. I stayed there a long time, ran over what had happened inside of my head probably about a thousand times. Then I went home that night and went to sleep. Didn't know what else to do. Woke up again after a couple decades. I'll admit that one _was_ a depression nap. Decided I'd wait for you to come back 'round, after that. That was the plan, anyway. I wasn't gonna push you or something, and you seemed to be doing alright. That was the time when you were going down to the club. You had stuff going on."  
  
From the way he'd said it, apparently he _hadn't_ had much 'stuff' going on.  
  
"You were safe, so letting you be was the best thing I thought I could do. Thought that way for a few decades, 'til you got mixed up with the Nazis. Came in and made my big sweeping rescue, then." Aziraphale smiled at the memory, then squeezed his hand. "I still can't believe you just came straight into a church for me. You didn't even hesitate."  
  
Crowley shrugged. "Didn't think about it too much, really. There are worse places for you to end up than inside a church."  
  
Aziraphale knew he was right. And actually, 'worse places' brought him to another thought, in a roundabout way. There were few places worse for Crowley than that one place right now. "I have to admit, there's something I haven't been sure how to bring up, too."  
  
"Which is?"  
  
"I'm... thinking about going back to work. You know."  
  
"...back to Heaven?" Aziraphale almost _heard_ his heart break.  
  
He shook his head quickly, smoothing his free hand over the side of Crowley's head, pushing his hair back and watching it fall back into place, then repeating the motion. "No, no. Not that. _Never_ that. I just mean... back to my day job, so to speak." Despite all he preached about openness, he was instinctively trying to avoid actually saying it.  
  
Crowley's exhale was harsh. It wasn't as bad as he'd thought, but this still wasn't exactly a pleasant idea. "Oh. I... I mean, yeah, whatever, but I thought you didn't even like it." Aziraphale had frequently complained of the annoyance of his customers, over the years.  
  
"I like the books. I like talking to people about the books. Not so much the selling them. I do try my hardest to... _discourage_ any actual buying."  
  
Again, as he had many times during their acquaintance, Crowley wondered at the point of running a bookshop if you weren't going to sell anything. "I like it when you're happy. If it'll make you happy then... you should." His voice was raspy, betraying the dry state of his throat. Seemed like the wine hadn't done much to prevent that.  
  
Aziraphale drew him in close, wrapping the other arm around his back as he started the process of dropping the circle. "I'll keep the hours short. I just... I think this is something I need to do, for a while, at least. For_ me._"  
  
Crowley nodded. He understood. He did. Perhaps he needed it _more,_ but he wasn't the only one that needed some care. It was just a frightening prospect to let Aziraphale go traipsing back into that bookshop like nothing ever happened.

He knew, deep down, that nothing more was going to happen. Heaven and Hell were afraid of the anomalies that had been presented to them, in the form of an Aziraphale and Crowley that had supposedly transcended their very natures. No one would be brave enough to come for either of them now. They were probably already quite busy pretending the two of them didn't exist, actually.  
  
But even still, that didn't quiet the alarm bells in his head. They just sounded distant. The lingering positive energy from the session and the weight of Aziraphale's arm against his back were doing wonders to counteract the anxiety trying to rise in him, this time.  
  
He chewed the inside of his lip, and his finger slid along the edge of Aziraphale's ring, jostling it.  
  
He'd developed this habit recently. Occasionally when they were holding hands, he'd fidget with the ring. It had been a slow onset, and it took a few times before the angel noticed it. It was harmless, after all. Once he_ had_ noticed, though, he started paying attention and watching for it, because he couldn't help but find it cute somehow.  
  
"Why don't you look after this for me, darling?" He said, bending his thumb into his hand to catch the bottom edge of the ring with his nail, sliding it off his finger to hold it up to Crowley.  
  
"...why?"  
  
"You seem to like it. Holding onto something of mine might help, anyway. You can think of it as my promise that I'll come back unharmed." He hummed, sitting back and grasping the demon's wrist to keep his hand still so he could slide the ring onto his pinky, where it resized itself to fit.  
  
Crowley briefly felt that familiar clamp around his throat at the sudden idea of Aziraphale being away from him, but sucked in a low breath through his nose to start his breathing exercises. He couldn't keep him attached to the hip all the time, and that wasn't even something he _wanted_ to do.  
  
Aziraphale was a being with free will and he had no inclination whatsoever to even _think_ about taking that away from him. His free will was a large part of what made him... well, him. It would be stupid to ignore the impact it had, when he'd fallen in love with him mostly for that reason to begin with. The emotional weight of the idea of him stepping back into that bookshop was just...  
  
Aziraphale took his hand again, pulling him up to a standing position with him. "I'm going to be alright, love." He told him, and he tried his hardest to take it for the reassurance that it was.  
  
He worried, couldn't really _help_ worrying, but the truth was... Aziraphale could take care of himself. That, he was sure of.  
  
What he was _less_ sure of at this point was whether or not _he_ was going to be alright.  
  
But, well, they were working on this together. He certainly wasn't gonna roll over without a fight now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... no beating around the bush here, this one's pretty short compared to the others. Short and sweet is the name of the game this week, I suppose. Hopefully it's not too disappointing! My goal this week was just to get them through a second session. I fit everything I wanted to into it. 
> 
> Tbh I do feel kind of bad it's this short but I think I might've accidentally set an impossible expectation for myself overall considering that so far the chapters have been hella long. Like... seriously. Chapter 2 was over 11k by itself! That's crazy to even think about for me!
> 
> I'm trying to outline the future mind healing sessions ahead of time, like, to choose a subject or two to use for each so it doesn't get overwhelming... for me or for Crowley! These chapters seem to take a lot more mental energy to get through for me. It turns out that writing heavy angst and attempting to convey believable mental trauma and recovery can be pretty hard on the brain, RIP. 
> 
> As ever, please let me know what you think!
> 
> Next week y'all will be receiving the gift of more porn and that will be very easy on me in comparison so get ready for that I guess lmfao


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He stood there a moment, looking at the angel looking up at him, before following to slide down on top of him. He wasn't in any sort of a rush, and he hoped that was a mutual feeling. But then, he reminded himself, Aziraphale had traditionally been the slower of the two of them, so it wasn't much of a worry to begin with. He liked to take his time to savor things, and that shouldn't be any different here. He'd also only really gotten 'round to the whole love thing about 80 years ago, for *Somebody's* sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hooboy. Somehow, impossibly, I've even slightly outwritten Chapter 2 in terms of the word count with this one. I definitely went a little crazy after what happened last week, but more than that, there was just a lot I wanted to cram in here.
> 
> I wanted to thank everyone for the support again, it really means a lot! I used to write quite a bit when I was a teenager but I dropped the hobby for a long time. I can honestly say I'm having fun with this story (even when it tries to be difficult!) and I've loved hearing that people like my writing so much. That being said, please keep up the comments! They've been so lovely. I do read them in my email throughout the week even if I don't actually get here to respond 'til I've posted the next chapter :)
> 
> From now on I'm gonna just let it flow and not worry about it so much... but this time I was just curious about the count because I could tell it was really long in the document so I checked and we do have another mini novel on our hands lmfao. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Crowley's heart thumped noticeably in his chest. Not in a _totally_ unpleasant way. Not _quite_ in that 'I'm losing control' way. But it thumped hard regardless.  
  
It was mostly anticipation. Aziraphale would be coming back home soon.  
  
He checked the time again.

_4:57pm._  
  
This was the first day he'd actually gone back to the bookshop.  
  
The idea had made Crowley very nervous, ever since he'd first mentioned it during their last session. _So_ nervous he could barely stand it, but he'd managed somehow to rein himself in. He had no desire to keep Aziraphale caged up here. If he wanted to go out and do things, that was definitely his right.  
  
That was also somewhere he knew he couldn't follow, even if he wanted to. With a decent amount of effort, he forced himself not to actually think about the absolute disaster that would be. The panic attack going over there at this point would cause would probably rival the very first one he'd had.  
  
They'd done a bit of prep work, deciding that would be better than trying to jump in at the deep end. Aziraphale had been going out each day, over a week long period, starting at just an hour, and increasing the duration every day until he reached the six hour stretch he intended to spend in the shop. When Crowley hadn't had any adverse reactions yesterday, he'd decided to make the big move today.  
  
The demon had exhausted all his coping methods by now, and he was sitting at the edge of the sofa, facing the door, fingers tapping a nervous rhythm against the arm. It had been a pretty restless day for him. He'd 'tended' the plants for as long as he could get away with. He'd looked through his astronomy books, somehow managing to leave them intact this time. He'd sat on the balcony for most of the afternoon with his cigarette and watched the city flow around him. Hell, he'd even resorted to a bit of actual reading, in a fit of desperation to keep his mind occupied. His flat was filling up with more and more books the longer Aziraphale lived with him.

_4:58pm._  
  
At some point he'd been touching himself, too... an attempt at distraction. But unfortunately for him, nothing was sorted out after he got off. Actually, it only made things worse and threw another complication into the mix. After that, he was bored, anxious, _and_ horny. He was trying his best to ignore it, but like most other messes he'd ever found himself in, it was a mess of his own making.  
  
It wasn't a whole lot different than the feeling of purposely knocking out the mobile phone network, only for it to _immediately_ bite him in the ass and make him end up in one of the world's last remaining phone boxes, out in the middle of nowhere.  
  
Speaking of his phone, he'd kept it close by through everything. He'd used it to check the clock throughout the day, more times than he could count. A few times, his fingers twitched toward it for other reasons. Aziraphale had told him he could call if he felt overwhelmed, but some part of him was resisting the urge somehow. He knew he needed to get used to this again, being by himself. He felt like he'd been spoiled by having the blonde around every second of every day since the supposed end of the world.  
  
He had little choice but to wait. He fiddled with the gold signet ring adorning his finger. Turned it absentmindedly and watched it spin. Aziraphale leaving him with it had turned out to be a pretty decent idea, all things considered. It performed the intended function and helped to keep the background thought in his head that he would definitely come back.  
  
_4:59pm._  
  
He could swear he heard his heartbeat rise into his ears. Aziraphale had said he'd be back at 5.  
  
It was the longest minute in the history of the entire universe.  
  
He moved to sit on the arm of the sofa, just that little bit closer to the door. His whole body was drawn up tight by the time it actually opened. He looked quite like a gargoyle perched on the roof of a building somewhere.  
  
The unexpected sight of him so close by startled Aziraphale, and he laughed. "_Well,_ hello to you, too!"  
  
But Crowley didn't respond, just continued to sit where he was, his stare burning holes into Aziraphale as he looked him over.  
  
The angel frowned, moving to set the bag he was holding aside on the counter before actually approaching Crowley. "Are you alright, dear?"  
  
"Yes. No." His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, wanting contact, but not being sure if he could dare. "I want... I want... _fuck,_ I don't _know_ what I want." It was ironic that it was all about _wanting_ with him, considering he still wasn't even _truly_ sure if that was something he was allowed to do.  
  
"Want. You mean... like _that?"_ He asked, and received a slight affirmative nod. "I can... touch you? If you're alright with that."  
  
He was. And he wasn't.  
They should do this. And they shouldn't.  
They must do this. And they mustn't.  
  
He hated all of these dichotomies that had been popping up inside of him lately.  
  
It all made for a very confusing state of being, honestly. "I... I dunno." He very vehemently blocked out the repetition of _fuck me fuck me fuck me_ that was viciously circling the edge of his hormone addled mind, feeling precisely like a snake waiting to strike, as they sat down in that familiar spot on the sofa. If he allowed that in, allowed it to take root in this moment, it would destroy him. "Let's... talk, yeah? That's what we do. We talk."  
  
Aziraphale gave him a soft look in response. "You're right. That's what we do."  
  
He watched as Crowley slid down into the furniture to sit in it properly again. Well, at least, as properly as he could manage. He took his own seat next to him, giving a pleased little hum as the other's weight settled against his side.  
  
"How..." Despite everything going on, Crowley almost had to laugh at himself that his instinctive first question was that classic, oh so domestic one. But he decided to ask it anyway. "How was your day?"  
  
"Quite underwhelming, as it turns out. But that's probably to be expected, since I hadn't opened in so long. A few people noticed, at least."  
  
"Sell anything?"  
  
"Not a one." His tone was proud, and it made Crowley snort. "And you?" He had to admit he was quite curious to find out what the demon had been up to while he was out... and what had led him to the state he'd found him in now.  
  
"I've been up to a lot, actually."  
  
"Oh, really. Like?"  
  
"Took care of the plants. No executions today, they're doing well." Despite himself, he couldn't help smiling a little as he saw Aziraphale stifle a chuckle out of the corner of his eye. "Got some fresh air too. Spent a couple hours out on the balcony."  
  
"Surely that's not all." Sometimes he still had trouble telling when Crowley was being sarcastic, but he hadn't sounded like it when he said he'd had a packed day.  
  
"Went through my astronomy books. Went through about half of one of _your_ books too." Aziraphale brightened at that, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of Crowley's head. "I've never known you to be much of a reader."  
  
"Well, y'know... not really my style. At that point I'd started to struggle for things to keep me busy. Got bored again not too long after."  
  
"You tried, though. I'm proud of you."  
  
Crowley's mouth pressed closed, and his lips thinned to a hard set line. He looked very much like exactly what he was; someone keeping a secret, and Aziraphale couldn't resist. "I get the sense that there's still more."  
  
"I... I, uh. I might've... y'know." He mumbled, making a _very apparent_ lewd gesture with his hand to tell him without words what he meant.  
  
"Oh, you _did?"_ The tone of his voice contained little else but blatant interest.  
  
"Wasn't one of my better ideas, as it turns out. Being horny all day is _awful._ Wouldn't recommend it."  
  
"That didn't solve it?" It always had, up to this point. He hadn't exactly _asked,_ but Crowley had seemed quite satiated afterward.  
  
"'Solving' it was what did it to me in the first place. I was fine, before that."  
  
"So, you were..."  
  
"Waiting for you to get home, yeah." Crowley rubbed the back of his neck in the adorable way he sometimes did when he felt shy or embarrassed. "I mean, obviously... I'm not all wound up_ just_ for that reason. But yeah."  
  
The fact that he was here now had done wonders to calm him down, honestly. Some of the 'what ifs' had thankfully stopped mattering the second he came through the door.  
  
"I must admit, I've got a couple of concerns about this after what you mentioned last time." He placed his hands, innocently, on Crowley's leg, near his knee. "Crowley, I never want you to overextend yourself. Least of all for me."  
  
"I'm not, Angel. I swear, I'm not." He sighed, shaking his head and briefly closing his eyes, making sure he had a stable platform to speak from before looking back at the blonde. "Physically, I've been always fine. I've always... y'know, gotten off. One way or another, it happened. I just... I've really never _liked_ it, before. It's always been a mental thing. Inside my head. Like every fucking thing else, it seems like." He snorted again, but this time it had a slight edge to it. He'd honestly never realized_ just how much_ of a headcase he was until recently.  
  
"I never... freaked out, other than the one time. I never felt _good_ about it, but I didn't feel as disgusting any time after that. Or, well... maybe I just got used to it, dunno." Maybe it was a bit of both, somehow. Actually, now that he thought about it, it seemed more likely that was the case. He'd always tried his hardest to avoid doing it where he could.  
  
He quickly found that he couldn't stand the look on Aziraphale's face as he listened, though. He took one of the angel's hands between his, twisting in his seat to face him fully. "But I don't... I _definitely_ don't feel that way, with you. Not at all. It's like I keep telling you, it was only ever you. I know what I've said might make it seem like I am, but I'm not forcing myself, I promise."  
  
_Liar. What **won't** you say to convince him? You want him to use you, again. And you know what's going to happen when he does it like **this**, don't you?_  
  
The first part of it was easily disputed and dismissed. He _didn't_ want Aziraphale to use him. Aziraphale didn't want to use him. That had already been settled.  
  
It was the second part...  
  
"Crowley?"  
  
His eyes had begun to glaze over, but he started at Aziraphale's call, and shook off the heaviness clinging to him, for the moment at least.  
  
"I think it'd be okay if we just... lie down and see where it goes." After all, lying down didn't automatically mean they had to... go all the way. Truth be told, he still didn't know if he could stand that idea. There was a certain fear and unease that went along with it. He raised his hand to press a finger to Aziraphale's lips though, pushing back any objection that might've been threatening to form there. "I already decided, and I don't do anything I don't want to anymore, you ought to know that by now."  
  
"There is, of course, one exception. You didn't want to talk to me about this the first time. I had to make you, as I recall."  
  
It was playful, yet clear and quick revenge for his time spent being a brat after they'd returned from holiday, and it had Crowley on the retreat again. He really had no leg to stand on there. "...that's different."  
An amused huff left Aziraphale. "Right."  
  
Without another word, Crowley moved back and stood, pulling the angel up beside him and holding both of his hands in his own. "Just... one thing. I... want it to be your idea, y'know? I really don't want you to think you're obligated, because of... well, anything, really."  
  
Aziraphale gave him a little chuckle. "I can assure you I'm not doing _any of this_ out of obligation. It's been a very long time since I've done anything for you out of obligation. 'This is purely social' is one of the biggest lies I ever told you. If you genuinely believed it, you're as silly as I was for saying it in the first place."  
  
"What I learned about you having these needs was my main motivation for bringing this up in the beginning, Crowley. It's obvious, and I probably don't even have to say that. It would be a disservice to you to try and pretend otherwise. At this stage I'm not sure that I would have just come up with it by myself out of nowhere."  
  
"By all accounts, I basically _exist_ to do things that please me. I'll freely claim that. In this case, it should be a _helpful_ form of pleasure, as well. It's been helpful so far, no?" Crowley nodded in response. He couldn't find any fault in that statement. He did feel like they'd been getting closer. And while no, it wasn't _all_ from this, he couldn't deny it definitely had a part in it. "So, I can say I _am_ genuinely interested in trying it. With _you,_ though. That's the important part. I've begun to truly see the appeal of using it as a bonding exercise, and you've had a successful run of making it about me, lately. If you think you're ready, we can step out on a limb. Ultimately, the course is in your hands, and nothing will go any farther than you can handle. You just have to say if you need to stop, and it stops. Above all else, I want you to always be comfortable with me."  
  
His answer and the impassioned tone that it was delivered in struck right into the core of Crowley. Without further comment, he turned to lead Aziraphale to the bedroom, pulling him along behind until they reached the bed, then switched their positions so he could gently push him by the shoulders and lay him down, enjoying the little _oof_ the other gave when his back hit the mattress.  
  
He stood there a moment, looking at the angel looking up at him, before following to slide down on top of him. He wasn't in any sort of a rush, and he hoped that was a mutual feeling. But then, he reminded himself, Aziraphale had traditionally been the slower of the two of them, so it wasn't much of a worry to begin with. He liked to take his time to savor things, and that shouldn't be any different here. He'd also only really gotten 'round to the whole love thing about 80 years ago, for _Somebody's_ sake.  
  
He shifted his legs outside of Aziraphale's, pressing their crotches flush together. "This alright?" He asked, rolling his hips just slightly to grind up against him in order to illustrate his point.  
  
"Yes, I rather think it's more than alright."  
  
Crowley sighed dreamily at the confirmation, leaning over him and kissing him like it was the only thing he was created to do.  
  
It didn't take long before Aziraphale was responding, digging his heels into the bed so he could push his hips up and get a more solid contact. It turned Crowley's breath ragged, feeling him start to awaken under him. The friction was euphoric, really, after an entire day of being wound up.  
  
That, working in tandem with the tongue languidly sliding against his, made something in his stomach flutter and brought that heat back in spades.  
  
But, rather suddenly, Crowley felt a little self conscious, and it threw a bucket of water over that. He stopped moving again. It was frustrating, and _so_ stupid, given they'd already gotten this far, but there was a squirm forming in the pit of his stomach. An intrusive thought that he couldn't ignore. He'd just kind of _assumed_ (and he was in the company of what seemed like _literally every other person_ in the history of the universe), but what if Aziraphale didn't actually want... male presenting sex?  
  
He hadn't thought about it before, and they _definitely_ hadn't flat out talked about it. Aziraphale had watched him jerk off with interest, but he hadn't actually touched him between his legs, even when he hadn't been specifically told not to, and Crowley couldn't tell whether or not that was deliberate... and if it was, whether he was just being cautious and respectful or if there was hesitance for another reason entirely.  
  
It brought him to the important question: Was this form going to be alright by him?  
  
Crowley had been known to dabble with various gender presentations over his six millennia lifetime. Wasn't like that was new to him. He'd tried out pretty much everything he possibly could at this point. At the heart of it, they were like clean slates, immortals. In that respect, they could draw whatever they liked, be whatever they wanted. Male, female, both, something outside that binary... even nothing. Personally, he'd enjoyed playing around with the concept. But if pressed, though, _really_ pressed, he would have to admit he did prefer it this way.  
  
Humans had a strange relationship with the concept of same sex partnerships, over the span of time. Their level of being okay with it seemed constantly in flux; from the Greco-Roman era where it seemed _every_ man was fucking another man, to the present day, where things had fallen significantly from that but were looking up a bit, even if it was currently a pretty polarizing thing and there were a lot of shades of gray.  
  
Normally he liked shades of gray. Big fan. Made things interesting. But this? Some of the mortal number, usually the ones that lagged behind in the brains department, liked to pin a religious justification on being against it. He couldn't say he'd ever actually asked the Almighty about it (wouldn't _that_ be a downright hilarious conversation), but he was pretty sure She would rather see the little ants crawling around on this planet love each other than hate. He never 'got' what exactly the issue was. Couldn't see it from that side.  
  
The halt of motion and duration of the dead air made Aziraphale nudge him. He wasn't sure when they'd actually stopped kissing, come to think of it. He must've gone staticky before that happened. "Crowley, what's going on in your head? Talk to me."  
  
The demon was beginning to wonder how many times it would take being prompted before he started to get the picture. It might be hard sometimes, it might be awkward... but he needed to just _talk. _Stop going inside his head so damn much and talk. Not just when they were inside of that circle.  
  
He'd been trying, but he needed to try _harder._ He wasn't anywhere near consistent.  
  
"I just..." Crowley would readily admit that the both of them had gone a little native in their time on Earth amongst the mortals. Each of them had a few 'human' tendencies. Was this one of them, though? He would shift for Aziraphale, if he wanted him to. He'd mold and shape himself into whatever the other desired. "D'you want me to change, Angel?" He forced himself to croak out, knowing he needed to find out before things went any farther. "Is this... okay?"  
  
Aziraphale's forehead creased in response. "Change...?" An instant after he asked, he realized what Crowley was getting at. "Mm-mm." He shook his head in response, sliding his hand over the other's hip and taking delight in the way his muscles tensed against his touch through those too tight jeans. "If you're asking _my_ opinion, I like you _just like this._ But if_ you_ want to change to suit yourself, then by all means, please do. I want you to enjoy what we do to the utmost, love. I can work with whichever... well, 'bits', you choose. It's still you, and that's all that's important to me. I meant that when I said it earlier."  
  
The amount of caring energy that Aziraphale sent his way made Crowley flush, and he nipped lightly at the angel's neck in retaliation. "_Bleedin' Hell,_ Aziraphale. You can't just _say_ stuff like that." _Of course_ he just... accepted him for exactly who he was. He was very good at doing that, maybe_ too_ good. _Of course_ it was something he was way overthinking. His stupid brain was excellent for getting him worried over things he didn't need to, but he could never tell the difference.  
  
"Whyever not?" The pure mirth in his voice was so scarcely concealed that it made Crowley wonder why he bothered _at all._  
  
But for his part he just nipped him again, and rested his head against him with an endearing huff. "Too sweet. I'll go soft."  
  
"I think it's much, _much_ too late to consider that, my dear." The amusement was just plain out overt this time, and Aziraphale pressed kisses all over his lover's reddened neck, chasing away that indignant expression that had crossed his face. Then there was a clear spark of something that crossed his own face, and he looked pensive.  
  
It made Crowley nervous again, and he fidgeted in his spot. "What are you looking like that for?"  
  
"Mm? " Aziraphale started slightly, as if he hadn't even been aware of the face he was making. His expression quickly melted into his usual, warm smile. "Nothing, really. A quick passing thought. I just couldn't help but wonder... is it painful?" He asked, forehead creasing again, this time with something that looked suspiciously like worry.  
  
"Well..." Crowley flushed even more and gestured vaguely into the air, as if he were trying to physically grab the words he wanted from the space above him. "It's part of the appeal?" At Aziraphale's incredulous look, he continued, stammering slightly. "Some people like it. O-Only hurts for a bit, in any case. Then it's... _well._ And, you can... cut any of the painful steps out. With miracles. Doesn't _have_ to hurt at all." He didn't give voice to the fact that he _hasn't_ done that before, but he didn't have to. The pauses did it for him.  
  
Either way, Aziraphale seemed content with the explanation. For now, anyway. "I'll admit that I don't really know what I'm doing, Crowley. But..." The angel hummed, tucking an errant strand of hair behind his lover's ear. "But I'll figure it out for you. You could guide me, if it's not too embarrassing for you."  
  
The thought of _that_ was, in fact, so embarrassing that Crowley might have discorporated on the spot if it weren't so absolutely vital that he didn't.  
  
But what else could he really do? What were his other options, exactly? He didn't have tons of experience himself, but he had more than Aziraphale, that was for sure. "Y-Yeah. No problem. One thing, though."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"If we do really get to... er, _that,_ let me take care of the prep work. You don't want _that_ coming up in front of Heaven's eyes." He considered leaving it at that, but he was working on being more open, after all, so he pushed himself to say what he was holding back, too. "And I... you can't do _this_ the long way. I don't want that either. 'S not something you ought to be doing."  
  
"If it helps you stay calm, I'll leave you to it. I don't want you to be uncomfortable, even a little bit, if we're going to do this." Came the response, but then Aziraphale was pushing back his hair to press a kiss to his forehead. "For the record, though, I don't see you as something tainted. I love every part of you, demon or no. As much as I've teased and pressed it in the past, you're not actually foul, or anything close to it. You have more of a heart than most _angels_ do. I know you see yourself a certain way, and that's just something else we'll have to help you work on. _You are worthy,_ Crowley. I don't care if it takes another six millennia for you to believe it yourself. We'll push it through until we get there."  
  
Crowley's heart felt like it was being gripped in a goddamn vise. Every time he thought his love for Aziraphale surely had to have bottomed out, the angel went and pulled something like this and expanded past its limits. There was nothing for it but to kiss him, _hard._ So hard he stole his breath. It was the only thing he could come up with to even remotely begin to articulate what he was feeling right now.  
  
When the kiss broke, he pressed his forehead against Aziraphale's to maintain contact, unable to bear being apart from him at the moment. "Need you." He said lowly; centuries upon centuries, millennia upon millennia of yearning and pining coming to a head and crashing down on him all at once. He thought if he didn't have Aziraphale soon, _somehow,_ the sudden influx of want and need piled on top of that would tear him asunder. It was a totally new feeling to him, to _desire_ this much. Perhaps put more accurately, to desire this much and to _let himself_ do it.  
  
"Y'okay with clothes off?" He asked, the quickening of his pulse causing him to speak faster too, and lack of attention making some of his words run together. He had to admit as they got closer to actually doing something_ together,_ the nervousness was getting worse. It had also occurred to him that Aziraphale hadn't been naked in front of him before... and in fact had seemed to be specifically avoiding doing so up to this point. The closest he'd come to it was being obscured under the water in a bath.  
  
Each time he'd worked him over before, he'd left him clothed. Given the luxury of retrospect, he thought it was strangely hot that way. He kind of had to wonder what would've happened if he'd asked this before.

But the blonde's voice snapped him out of thinking too hard about it. "I think I'd better be, or we aren't going to get anywhere." He joked, running the pad of his thumb over Crowley's kiss swollen lips. 

But Crowley frowned. "That's not true."

The angel's expression shifted into something like consideration. "Ah, well. Perhaps." He had to imagine it was significantly less efficient that way, though.

After a while, he noticed the demon was still looking at him expectantly, and he laughed a little. "Sorry, I hadn't realized you needed more from me. Yes, love. Go ahead." The awaited confirmation visibly calmed Crowley, and Aziraphale still found his insistence on getting an answer before he did anything just as endearing as he had before. Again his thoughts briefly touched upon how remarkable it was for a demon to be so interested in explicit consent. But then, neither of them were sure that Crowley _really_ qualified as a demon. In his case, the form he'd been pushed into was more of a side effect than a defining trait.

Crowley finally snapped his fingers, and the remaining layers of fabric between them disappeared. "Wanna touch you." He said, humming pleasantly when he received an affirmative little noise and nod of the other's head. He stayed flush on top of Aziraphale for another moment, laying kisses up his neck, over his jaw, and at the corners of his mouth as his hands roamed the gentle curves of the angel's body. The little shivers and goosebumps he drew out in the wake of his fingertips were just too enticing after a moment, though, and he sat up.

He couldn't help but notice though, as soon as he sat up, Aziraphale's arms had instinctively moved to cover himself. Maybe he wasn't the only one with a couple of hangups about all this, after all. When they'd bathed together in Rome, he'd done this too. Hid himself. 

The thought broke his heart, and he slid his fingers loosely around one of the angel's wrists, glancing to his face to receive an unspoken permission before gently moving the other's hand up to his mouth to press fond little kisses to his palm. "Angel, you're beautiful. You don't have to hide from me. If you'd rather I don't look, I won't. But don't hide because you think I won't like what I see." He assured, wanting more than anything to help soothe him away from thinking he saw him as anything less than absolute perfection. It seemed to work, and he found himself watching Aziraphale melt under him from the tenderness in his voice, and, albeit a bit hesitantly, moving his other arm away so Crowley could see all of him.

Aziraphale didn't have what humans would consider a 'perfect body', by any stretch of the imagination, but he was flawless to Crowley. He looked his fill, now that he could, but tried to do so without leering too much for fear of making the angel feel self conscious again. His otherwise smooth and unblemished skin was scattered with little freckles, radiating over him in patterns so clean that they almost looked like they'd been painted on. Stretch marks, purposely allowed to linger, lined his soft curves. He'd seen a few of these things when he was washing the angel's back, but he felt sort of honored to be allowed to see the full scope of them now. This was what Aziraphale chose for his corporeal form, and he had maintained more or less the same appearance for six millennia. He was so attached to it that it was what Adam had given him back.

If he wanted to, he _could_ be conventionally attractive, by human standards. Crowley knew this well, as it had been the whole motif _he'd_ tried to go for all this time. Always totally stylish, naturally attractive, but accompanied by just enough of an odd vibe to instinctively steer most people away from him. It was a carefully balanced state of being that constantly required little adjustments here and there. As such, he was very aware that Aziraphale could easily rid himself of every 'imperfect' feature. He had total control, and he _chose_ this. Cliche as it seemed to say, he was truly perfect in his own way, as far as Crowley was concerned. Aziraphale didn't care what people thought; he preferred things this way, _thank you very much,_ and even though he'd playfully make fun of him sometimes for some of his stylistic choices, Crowley loved him just that little bit more for his defiance of what was expected. It simply added to the mountain of appeal his angel already had.

"Do you want me to touch you, too? I could... finally finish that massage, if you want. Or, I don't know. A bit of something else, maybe?"

"Uh-uh. Not gonna let you make this _all_ about me." He said, shaking his head and ready to stand firm in that position if Aziraphale tried to argue him out of it. He was aware the idea had come about originally as a way to benefit him, but he'd be damned if he'd let this be one-sided toward _him_ now. Might be _extra_ damned by the guilt if he let his angel taint himself by getting on his knees to 'serve' him. And he was already damned _enough_ for his liking, so better derail that too. "You've been doing so much for me... this is my thing to do for you. We already had this row once."

Aziraphale didn't know if it had even qualified as a row, exactly, but he got the point. "Anthony J. Crowley, you are seriously the _worst_ demon this world has ever known." He smiled, pleased with the way Crowley had so easily challenged him and shared his thoughts. Obviously it was still a rarity that he would come out with something like that on his own. He didn't mind leading him, but a moment like this made him proud. "You seem to conveniently forget that you've _been_ doing that for me. You could at least try to be a _little_ selfish, darling."

"I think it's possible I'm being selfish enough, doing this in the first place."

He'd thought it had been mumbled, but then Aziraphale responded to it. "You say that as if I'm suddenly not getting anything out of it."

Crowley didn't have anything to say back to that. He had a point, after all.

"Well, I do suppose I should ask. How do you, er... like to...?" He could figure out the mechanics easily enough. If he thought about it, he couldn't really say there was a standout preference either way as far as he was concerned.

Crowley just shrugged, though. "Can't say I've cared before. But, I think I'd be... more comfortable if you, uh, drive. Y'know." He tried very hard to ignore the way his voice stuck in his throat, and the nervous swallow that accompanied his words.

But Aziraphale had definitely noticed it. He put two and two together pretty easily, an ability that Crowley both loved and hated. His voice was extra soft when he spoke again. "Are you still worried?" The question came out as little more than a whisper, and all was quiet as he awaited Crowley's answer. It was just the sounds of their light breathing, and the slide of his hand against the demon's back, filling the dimly lit room.

The lack of response told him all he needed to know, really. He knew before Crowley spoke up. He could tell by the _way_ Crowley was breathing. He heard the intervals. But then he finally _did_ speak up, despite the deliberate absence of prompting. "...maybe a bit." 

It took him so long to answer this time purely because it pained him to admit it; not wanting to hurt his angel's feelings or make him think he didn't take his word, because that couldn't be farther from the truth.

It was just that... he couldn't easily quiet that one remaining bit of white noise about the subject that had residence in the corner of his mind.

He could separate out the orgasms he'd given Aziraphale up 'til now. That had been something that was purely for his pleasure. Just like his oversweetened tea, his sushi, or his cakes. Self pleasure had been something he was all about, and as noted, he was still okay.

He was still okay, even now. After all that.

It felt like an entirely different thing somehow when Crowley actually added himself to the equation. The thought of them coming together like that still felt dangerous. "It's... a big risk. If you Fall, I..."

"I'm _not_ going to Fall. I'm not." Aziraphale's hand covered his, lightly. "Trust me."

This hesitation that he still couldn't seem to shake only hurt this much because he _did_ trust him. Even so... "You can't _know_ that for sure."

Neither of them knew everything. It wasn't like they could see fate's branching paths of decisions and consequences, all of that was supposedly God's job to know. The fear of the unknown was quite liable and well documented throughout history to totally destroy humans... and it didn't fare much better in the case of an immortal that had it infiltrate their mind. The thought of Aziraphale's Fall, hypothetical or otherwise, was still just too much for him to bear.

"You know we don't have to do anything. Don't you dare think you'd be disappointing me. I can live without all of this, and I don't want you to ever do anything you're not ready for." Aziraphale reminded. "All I want you to do is be honest with me."

Despite his anxiety, that call felt too final, though. He didn't _want_ to stop this. He shook his head.

But what _did_ he want? Was he even _allowed_ to want? Had that really not changed at all?

It was probably far too late to wonder about that again now, wasn't it.

_Breathe, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four._

He could hear Aziraphale's voice echoing in his head as he went into his repititions again.

_Trust in me. Believe in me. Trust me._

He lay there with his eyes closed for a long while, shutting out the real world and letting his thoughts war against each other. He _was_ still scared to go all the way. But he was _always_ going to be scared, skittish, until he knew for sure. And to know for sure... the risk had to be taken.

If this issue were ever to _truly_ be resolved, Aziraphale was going to be dangled over that pit.

_Breathe, two, three, four._

It wasn't... like before. He didn't feel disgust from Aziraphale's touch. In fact, it was just the opposite. What little attention he'd allowed him to give so far had lit him up like nothing else probably ever could.

Crowley wanted him. Genuinely, he wanted him. He doubted if he could _stop_ wanting him, even if he had the immense mental fortitude it would take to try to do such a thing to begin with.

Aziraphale wanted _him,_ too. It had long since become very clear he wasn't disgusted either. 

He wasn't Tempting him. By the angel's account, that wasn't even possible to begin with. Aziraphale wanted to do this of his own accord. If anything, he was definitely the one dragging his feet, here. Aziraphale wasn't afraid.

_Breathe, two, three, four._

He trusted Aziraphale. He trusted him with everything he had, and then some. If _he_ was confident, Crowley could let that confidence become his own, as well. It could fill in the gaps he was too afraid to cross on his own. 

It would all be okay, as long as the angel had the control. He had to put Aziraphale's fate fully into his own hands.

That just meant _he_ had to let go of it.

_**Breathe,** two, three, four._

Aziraphale had been quiet this whole time, letting him try to hash it out on his own. The sharpness in that last inhale had stirred him out of that. "Crowley, listen. Seriously, if you need to st--"

Crowley cut him off with a shake of his head. He was breathing normally now. "No, I want to." His voice was steady. Level.

This was the same, quite distinct determination that had taken him over during the first mind healing session. It took Aziraphale off guard to see it appear so suddenly, outside of that context. "Do you want to because _you_ want to, or do you want to because_ I_ want to?"

A pause. The question was a very valid one, it turned out. Clearly there were some straggling volleys fired between the two sides of Crowley's war. "Both." He said, finally.

He _was_ allowed. 

He was allowed to have this. He was going to take it.

It would be alright.

He strained against the heavy chain that was holding him back, pulled at it purposefully, and that shackle broke.

He could reach out for Aziraphale now.

He snapped his fingers, willing himself slick and open, then gently pulled Aziraphale up enough that he could roll them over and put the angel on top of him, framing him with his legs. As an afterthought, he groped for one of the extra pillows around his head, arching his body up enough that he could wedge it in underneath himself.

Aziraphale moved his hand to hold the demon by the back of the neck, pulling him up to meet him and kissing him briefly with as much passion as he could muster. Which was, in fact, quite a lot. 

His posture was noticeably stiff as he loomed over Crowley after they broke apart, though.

"_Relax,_ Angel. Aziraphale, you aren't going to hurt me. I promise." He told him gently, trying to help steel the both of them for what was coming next. He couldn't really blame his lover for being cautious, considering how many times he'd crumbled lately. He also realized the irony of _him_ telling _Aziraphale_ to calm down.

But he did manage to avoid physically tensing up, at least. It was more from a slight poke of performance anxiety than the fear that he'd stretched the truth and it would hurt, though. Shit demon as he was, he could still stand a little pain. He'd just never had any sex that actually mattered to him before, and he couldn't help but place a higher importance on this.

Aziraphale relented, shifting and wiggling to line himself up. He lifted one of Crowley's hands to his lips, kissing the center of his palm. "You're sure?" He asked one last time, giving him an honest chance to back out. He was clearly studying Crowley for any lingering signs of hesitation, too. But ultimately there were none to be found, and the demon gave him a little smile as he turned his hand to let his fingers brush down his jaw. "Yeah. I want this, Angel. You don't have to worry. I trust you."

As it happened, 'I trust you' was precisely the spark that had been needed to jolt Aziraphale back into action. "Tell me if you need to stop." He breathed lightly, the words disappearing into the air so readily that Crowley almost thought he'd imagined them.

But he knew he didn't. They carried his heart off on a cloud.

_Fuck,_ he loved Aziraphale.

The moment arrived at last. The breath he hadn't realized he was holding and his lingering thoughts were both ripped right out of him when Aziraphale leaned down and finally breached him; slowly, delicately, but steadily just the same. 

The sensation struck through him so completely that it evoked the serpent sleeping deep down within him and made him hiss lowly. "Ssssshit." He cursed, biting his tongue to make it behave so he could speak normally again after momentarily letting it slip. He let his hands slide against Aziraphale's back, pushing at him gently to urge him on when he started to hesitate. "Don't stop 'til you're inside me completely." He instructed, his voice sounding remarkably normal after such a short turnaround, but that had taken a tremendous amount of effort.

And then his Principality _was_ inside him completely, both of them sharing a sigh when he bottomed out and his hips practically molded themselves straight to Crowley's skin. Curves matched hollows precisely, as if they were always meant to be like this. 

Some part of Crowley, deep down toward his center, dared to think that maybe they _were._

"Are you alright?" He found himself being asked, and his eyes focused on Aziraphale's face. 

"Mhm. You...?"

"It's..." He searched his quite extensive vocabulary for a word that would adequately describe the sensation and came up empty. So he settled on "Different."

"_Good_ different, or _bad_ different?"

Aziraphale shook his head in response. It wasn't either, really. "Just... different." He shifted slightly, pushing a sharp breath out of the demon. Wide eyes asked if he was still alright, and the unspoken question was answered only with a quick nod of his head.

Having had him down his throat several times already, Crowley was very well aware he was dealing with a pretty girthy cock here, but still seemed to have underestimated it somehow. It was, in fact, _so damn thick_ it was almost unreal. He was filled in a way he hadn't thought possible. It was testing the bounds of the miracle he'd used to open himself up, but the slight sting of the stretch was almost pleasant somehow. And as absolutely mad as it sounded, Crowley felt _so_ full with him that he had the idea, for just a blink of time, that he might be able to come just from that if he put his mind to it. But _fuck **that**,_ he thought, because he wanted to actually enjoy this. Not get finished off when they weren't even off the starting line. 

Perhaps a bit fortuitously for him, there was a pause. Partially because Aziraphale was trying to work out how exactly to proceed, and partially because both of them needed a moment to get used to things before he moved.

Blue eyes met serpentine ones, and they just stared. No words were exchanged, but they didn't need to be.

Something in the connection between them said _'We're alive. We're here now, together. We made it past the promised end of the world, and nothing will ever part us again.'_ and it was tremendously difficult not to take comfort in that.

It chipped away another shard of that darkness that was clinging onto him.

"You can move now, if you like." Crowley said, after a while, finally breaking the silence. The feeling of being almost too full had subsided by now, or he'd gotten used to it. One of the two. But still, Aziraphale paused. The demon could easily infer the reason why. "Angel, it's okay. Seriously. It's your first time. 'S not like I'm sat here scoring you on it. Everybody starts out like this. Even if you don't know what to do, your body does. Just trust it."

The angel's face scrunched in a way that clearly communicated he was considering the statement. It was, after all, at its base level, a human form. Some of the functions they needed to live had been made auxillary, but at the heart of the matter he was still a celestial being wearing a human shell. 

So... perhaps this _was_ best left to his body and not his brain.

He pulled his hips back experimentally, withdrawing almost his whole length. His hesitation at the peak was just long enough that Crowley thought maybe he'd changed his mind, and he started to speak up, but the words slipped out of his head as Aziraphale bore down on him again.

_"Oh."_

Again, his understanding of why humans did this rushed to the forefront, unbidden. It all felt remarkably different than Crowley's mouth had, but immediately he felt like his nerves were on fire in a similar way.

"_Fuck._ That's it. Keep doing _that._ You'll get it."

He dutifully repeated the motion. He wasn't sure if he could've done otherwise, even if Crowley hadn't said so. The velvet embrace of the muscle inside of Crowley had ensnared him immediately, and as intended, his body quickly got the message and took over, chasing more of that sensation. It moved on its own, though slowly.

Crowley watched him with rapt fascination. Somehow, having Aziraphale over him like this was as soothing as it was exciting.

"Give yourself over to me, precious. You can let go. I'm going to take such good care of you." The 'I'll always keep you safe' was easily read in the background of his tone, and it made Crowley's heart flutter.

Little did Aziraphale seem to know, though, he couldn't have done any differently even if he tried. The angel already had _absolutely all of him._

Every single roll of Aziraphale's hips; the slow, deep press in, slide out, and repeat, stole his breath just that little bit more. His movements were becoming more and more confident as time went on, and that just meant it was feeling even better.

Aziraphale pulled his head back just enough to put his lips to Crowley's, slipping his tongue into the demon's mouth to effectively resume the kissing from earlier. It was just as slow and languid now, but even more affectionate, somehow. One of his hands moved to thread through the light tufts of blonde as he responded in kind.

His entire body was warm from the tenderness he could feel radiating off of his angel as he moved against him, and he almost didn't know what to do with this.

Their kiss broke again, and there was a hand stroking over his chest with feather light touches. "My darling, you're the best gift I could have ever been given. The best thing that's ever happened to me. You _do_ know that, don't you?" Aziraphale sighed into his ear, dipping his head to press kisses over the edge of the lobe and down to that sensitive spot just behind, closing his lips around the skin to suckle at it lightly.

The words flowed over Crowley, slipping down his spine and making him shiver. He _definitely_ didn't know what to do with _this._

Sure, he'd been fucked, but obviously he'd never been _made love to_ like this. He'd never been _given attention_ like this. And for it to be Aziraphale? The wave of sentimentality that hit him would've knocked him over if he were anywhere other than where he was right now, already lying on his back.

_I love you. I love you so much._ Every single cell of his body was screaming with those words and he felt almost like he'd evaporate in the face of them, totally dissolve into his all consuming love for the being above him that had stubbornly blossomed against so much adversity.

Aziraphale's weight pressing down upon him felt so good and so right that he could barely believe he'd ever been fighting this. It pinned him to the bed, but not threateningly so. No, never that. It was more like... the angel was covering him. Protecting him. Something he was so stupidly good at.

The slow drag of him up against his sweet spot out of nowhere broke Crowley slightly and a choked moan escaped him. "A-Ah, _fuck!"_ His back arched prettily, and he could think of nothing else except the fact that he _absolutely_ needed more of that. He felt like he'd waste away if he didn't get it. "Don't move, don't move, don't move." He gasped, head tipping back against the pillow.

At first he'd tried to hold all of that in, not sure if it would be disconcerting to his lover, but eventually he couldn't help it anymore. He felt way too good to earnestly attempt complex reasoning like that. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he dug his fingers into Aziraphale's back.

The angel's movements slowed to a crawl that was dangerously close to a complete halt at the appearance of those tears, but before that look of concern truly had time to form on his face, Crowley was shaking his head. He was alright, and he thought he might strangle Aziraphale if he stopped _right now,_ when he could tell things were close to wrapping up.

There was a soft smile, and the rhythm ramped back up to its previous pace, sending a jolt right down Crowley's spine. Suddenly he was a chorus of "Angel, Angel, Angel", drawing in ragged breaths in between and clinging onto him.

If anything, the display just seemed to fuel Aziraphale. Actually, that description wasn't quite strong enough for what was happening. It was riveting, the way Aziraphale was looking at him now, with pupils blown so wide it would _almost definitely_ make him freak out if not for that ring of blue still very visible around the edge. With a gaze so full of reverence and desire it made him feel like he would melt away completely if it was turned his way for too long. 

It felt like he wanted to take every single one of those sounds, capture these moments, and store them away for a later date. The nature of his thrusts never changed, never crossed that border into quick or harsh, but there was more strength behind each and every stroke after the encouragement started.

"Beautiful, my love. You are _so very_ beautiful." He said, stroking through Crowley's hair and leaning in to press a kiss to the very center of his forehead, sending a shower of those tingling sparks hustling over to that spot to meet him.

It was all so _impossibly_ tender. Something he'd never thought sex could be.

And Crowley couldn't withstand that for very long, as it turned out. Aziraphale was totally unraveling him with his careful but steady movements and showers of praise. The depth of sensation was too much for him, for many reasons. 

He felt warmth bloom and pool between his hips. He was practically made of those tingles now. "Oh, fuck... _fuck,_ Aziraphale. I'm gonna _come."_ He panted, writhing beneath him. Squirming. Arms wrapping around his shoulders, trying to press him closer. He couldn't stay still now that the high was approaching. His body was chasing it desperately.

"Mm... you've been so _good,_ Crowley. So _strong._ You've more than earned your release, my lovely boy."

Crowley shuddered at the way those words felt, pouring down his back. It made him think that even if this waterfall of admiration eventually drowned him, he'd be completely okay with that. His eyes fluttered closed. He didn't have the effort to spend on keeping them open anymore. 

Aziraphale hit him in _just the right way again_, and he felt it when he came apart, but the sensation faded out fairly soon after. He didn't even have time to be upset, though. There was a flash of light behind his clenched eyelids, and then...

And then he opened them to find... stars? 

_Real_ stars.

Not the 'he saw stars' type of stars. _Actual burning balls of gas._

But he couldn't think about it like that. He didn't want to spook himself out of... whatever this was, by thinking about _that._

They were floating, together, in space. Surrounded by galaxies and nebulae that Crowley could scarcely remember the names of, but instinctively knew he had created. Had he seriously _come so hard they went back to space?_ Surely something that ridiculous couldn't be possible, right?

His arms were wrapped around Aziraphale's waist, cradling him protectively against his chest. "Angel... hey, Angel?" He said, shaking him gently.

He _was_ still an angel, right?

"Hn... Crowley, what is...?" The other stirred, and he watched him have the same moment of confusion that he'd had himself, before moving his gaze to meet the blue eyes that had been turned on him. They looked normal again now. That, at least, seemed like a good sign. 

But still, Crowley waved the question away, in favor of his own. "D'you feel any different?"

"What? No. I'm fine."

_I'm fine._ Those words were like music to Crowley's ear, and that nervous lump in his throat started to subside immediately. Relief flowed through him like the water in a stream, and out through his silent but deep exhale. He felt like crying. He didn't, but he felt like. They _hadn't_ made a horrible mistake here. Aziraphale was okay.

He then turned his attention to the present circumstances, resting his chin on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Who knows what this is. Maybe you're just such a good lay you literally expanded the universe." He hummed, briefly turning his head to press a kiss to the soft skin.

"We're not... _actually_ in space? No. No, I don't think that's possible. Then what...?" The angel spoke, mostly voicing his thoughts out loud to himself, brows knitting. Suddenly his facial expression changed, as if he'd realized something, or at least had an idea. Crowley didn't even have time to question it before he was bringing voice to his thoughts. "We're inside your mind."

Crowley couldn't hold back a snort. "What? That's _crazier_ than actually being in space."

"I'm serious. It just feels like... you. It feels familiar. I think this... is your oasis."

One of Crowley's brows raised, in that trademark way of his. "My what now?"

Aziraphale's eyes roamed over the demon's face as he spoke. "I didn't expect this to happen... right now. The book... it talks about this. It made it seem like a very advanced concept. You know how humans say things like 'my happy place', when they're talking about something they picture in their minds? According to the text, it's a real thing. That phenomenon can only be experienced when someone is deeply connected with their own psyche. The form it takes is different for each individual. Yours is... space. This part of space, specifically. Where you want to be most is here, among the things you're proud of. What you created."

"How are we _both_ here, then?"

"Well... the only thing I can guess is it has to do with the mind healing, probably. Technically, through that... I've already been inside your mind. I suppose that led to you pulling me into your oasis with you. You wanted me to be with you, here."

He couldn't fully wrap his mind around it, but somehow Crowley didn't contain a single shred of doubt toward what the other was saying. It was an irrefutable fact that he had that much trust in Aziraphale.

"I do like it here, in case that wasn't properly communicated when we were traveling."

"Well, whenever you want to come out to the stars, just get in bed with me, then. Apparently it'll save us the trip."

"Oh, _good Lord."_ Aziraphale shoved his shoulder, unable to help a little bit of laughter at the suggestion. "I do think perhaps we should go back, though. We shouldn't stay too long and ruin the novelty of it."

"Yeah, you're right."

He wasn't totally sure how to do that, mind, but he guessed he could try something.

He shut his eyes again and concentrated, thinking about himself in bed with Aziraphale. He gradually felt the sensation returning to his body. His eyes opened in reality, and they immediately flicked over to follow the source of heat in interest, hoping he hadn't missed the chance to see Aziraphale debauched like the other times.

But it turned out that this _wasn't_ like that.

No, that time he had merely been dazed. This time he looked absolutely _wrecked._ He'd moved off Crowley at some point and was lying next to him, clearly going through some pretty potent aftereffects. Sweat poured off of him like rain pouring down a window in a heavy storm. He was shivering, too, and his breaths were unsteady. He clutched onto Crowley's hand like it was his lifeline.

If Crowley had thought he'd seen the other properly shaken by his very first orgasm, clearly he'd been wrong. This one had undoubtedly knocked it right off its throne immediately. It made a lot of sense, since it was the same for him. Quite obviously he'd never gone through something so intense he ended up _inside of his own mind_ before. 

It seemed like Aziraphale was bordering on overstimulation if the way he looked had anything to say about it, though. Was hard to tell, really. Being his first time, 'overwhelming' wouldn't be a descriptor that was off the table. 

And it was especially likely, considering the fact that Aziraphale had accidentally manifested a huge ball of light in the room with them. It was breaking down fairly quickly, little bits falling off and floating in the air, softly glowing like fireflies. Quite soothing, really. He actually found he quite liked this impromptu little light display.

But he was also suddenly grateful that he'd gone to the trouble of making sure he had a penthouse with few windows. This would be hard to explain otherwise. He wasn't sure if humans could've even seen it, but still. There was a chance, since Aziraphale had that nasty habit of wanting to be seen by them most of the time. But perhaps even more importantly than that, he was feeling excessively greedy right now and wanted to keep it all for himself.

It had all ended up fine. He smoothed his free hand over the side of his lover's sweaty head, smiling down at the form resting on the bed next to him. Aziraphale let go to chase that hand up and cover it with his own, letting out a sigh so deep and so satisfied sounding that it gave Crowley a little jolt to hear it.

The other arm was draped bonelessly over his eyes now, and the demon couldn't help but stare at him in this clear, thoroughly pleasured state. He wanted to commit it to memory.

"Alright?" He asked, once he'd looked his fill, watching as the other picked up his hand just enough to look at him with one (to his relief, still very blue and very normal) eye.

It didn't seem possible that a smile could simultaneously be so weary and so bright. "I didn't know it was even possible to feel this good."  
  
"Better than your favorite sushi?"  
  
There was absolutely no hesitation in the answer. "Much."  
  
It had been a joke, but that made Crowley's stomach do a little flip. "Holy shit, what a compliment."  
  
"And how about you?"  
  
Crowley looked at him curiously. "How d'you mean?"  
  
"Are you... do you feel good, too?"  
  
"Oh, Angel. I couldn't tell you how good I feel right now. In fact, I..." He gently pulled his hand away, smiling as he moved to rise from the bed. "Don't move, yeah? I'll be right back."  
  
Confusion struck Aziraphale as he watched Crowley's retreating back, but he did as he was asked and stayed put.  
  
The flat was totally still after he left the room. It stayed that quiet for a time, though the moment probably seemed longer than it actually was.  
  
The room was hazy, but Aziraphale didn't find any displeasure in that. His whole body was very pleasantly tingly, and this time, given the chance to sit back and not think about anything else, he could properly feel that cocktail of brain chemicals swirling around up there. It was taking him over, really. He felt better than he could ever remember feeling.  
  
He'd been telling the truth, back when he said he hadn't thought about any of this before, but he didn't know how he was supposed to keep from thinking about it _all the time,_ now. Not if this was what it would do.  
  
He'd originally meant it to be a benefit to Crowley, and through various twists and turns, the other had managed to turn it on him instead up 'til now, but perhaps he could take just a little bit of that for himself on purpose, too. He might've been greedy to a fault, sometimes... but he doubted if Crowley would blame him in this case. On the contrary, the cues he'd read so far said his lover would be all for it.  
  
Suddenly there was a clatter, and a muffled 'fuck' from the other room.  
  
"Crowley?" He called, sitting up a bit as his brow creased.  
  
There was no response.  
  
But he wasn't given much time to worry, because the demon resurfaced shortly thereafter, clearly having straightened himself up slightly. He was wearing a tank top and some boxers when he came back, holding a wet towel in one hand, and a dry towel and Aziraphale's night clothes in the other. "Sorry. Knocked something over." He explained, referencing the noise, emptying his hands of everything but the wet towel and reclaiming his spot on the bed.  
  
"What's all that for?"  
  
Crowley's mouth hung open for a moment while he tried to navigate the best way of explaining himself. "It's... well, I want to give you some attention. After that. Keep making you feel as good as you've made me feel."  
  
Aziraphale couldn't help feeling slightly dumbfounded. "You--"  
  
"Uh-uh. Shut it." He gave Aziraphale a look that told him this was non-negotiable before his eyes softened again. "Don't tell me I don't have to. I _know_ I don't have to. I just _want_ to. Little healing technique of my own, maybe."  
  
Part apology, maybe.  
  
His fingers snapped, and a packet of candies appeared in his hand. Aziraphale's favorite. Judging by the look that had crossed his face, it was something he'd meant to already have at hand, but had forgotten. "Here." He said, offering it to Aziraphale.  
  
He took it, opened it, ate a few, but couldn't help the curiosity. "Have you... done this before?" It all seemed too calcluated. Too deliberate to believably be executed spontaneously.  
  
There was a shift in Crowley's expression as he moved to smooth the towel over Aziraphale's neck, gently wiping the lingering sweat from the skin there before gradually moving down to his chest. The angel had learned to identify this specific look to mean that he was feeling particularly soft. It was impossibly endearing, perhaps even more so than the delicate motion of his hands. "Nah. You kidding? Before, it's always been... _everything_ you're not, really. I'd never do this for anyone else, even if I'd been able to put aside the gross feeling I got from the sex. It's all been point A to point B, y'know? Nothing like this."

His hands twisted in the cloth. "Honestly, I... I have a thought, pretty often, about how I don't deserve someone to love me as much as you do. I'd be able to tell now, even if you didn't say it. It's in the way you look at me. It's in every little thing you do for me, even the things you think I don't notice. You always think so hard about how to help me and about what would make me happy. It really does feel like more than I deserve."  
  
Aziraphale wanted to refute the statement that Crowley didn't deserve him, but something stopped him. Probably the rest of what he'd said. He was opening up a little bit, so it didn't seem the moment. So he put it in his back pocket to deal with later, watching Crowley silently as he meticulously cleaned him off. This silence was easy, like the kind they'd shared on the balcony.  
  
Crowley was almost totally done with his task when he finally spoke up again. "I've been thinking about it, and this is just... more stuff I thought you might like me to do sometime. Since you mentioned bonding before, y'know? And I... well. I don't want to fuck it up anymore. Any chance I get to show you what you mean to me, I'm gonna take it."  
  
Aziraphale understood. Now that he could bring everything to the forefront as he pleased, along with having the knowledge that there was so much hurt inside of him, he found he had to exercise some control in order to not totally smother Crowley.  
  
As a creature practically made of indulgence, it was especially difficult at times. But it must have been an even more delicate balance for the demon. Sometimes when he looked at Crowley he almost thought he could _feel_ a flood of unspent emotion just underneath the surface.  
  
Millennia of repressing feelings could do that to a person, he supposed.  
  
"...I didn't push you too hard, did I, darling?"  
  
The question startled Crowley. He hadn't expected it. "Huh? No. No, of course not. You didn't _make_ me do anything. Gave me plenty of space to back out. I wanted... to do it. Just had to convince myself I'm _allowed_ to want things now. I _am_ sorry I went ahead with it when I wasn't actually sure yet. I know you didn't want me to do that. But... I just needed to work through it."  
  
The cloth was abandoned temporarily, and with impossible tenderness, he cradled Aziraphale's face between his hands. "Please don't doubt yourself. You did what you do best. You _helped_ me break out of that. Just had to trust you when you said you'd be alright. It was just... I was _so afraid_ you'd Fall. But fuck, Aziraphale, _I trust you._ I'd trust you with _anything. Everything._ Was always _me_ that was the problem. Believing in you is easy. Can't stay afraid when you're there. You're strong, always have been. Wouldn't have been chosen to guard the Eastern Gate if you weren't at least a little special, eh?" He smiled, letting one of his hands drop to reclaim the cloth to actually finish his work but keeping the other where it was.  
  
A little blush dusted the angel's cheeks, and he displayed that little shy smile and sideways glance that he'd given Crowley so many times before, a treasure saved just for him that seemed deliberately engineered to be as endearing as possible, as he turned his head slightly to nuzzle into the hand still holding his face. The gold from his ring caught his eye, and he temporarily diverted his attention to press a kiss to the skin against it. "Flatterer. But, you know... I _have_ been wondering if the Almighty knew that I would grow to be a wild card back when I was created. Perhaps that's what I was created and placed for. To make things more interesting for Her. I can't help but notice She has never actually intervened in anything I do. Not even when I gave my sword away... or, perhaps more importantly, when I gave my acquaintance to and fell in love with a demon. I could lie to Gabriel all I wanted, with little actual consequence, but to God? There would be no point in doing so in the first place. She sees and knows everything."  
  
"But you never told Her what you _actually_ did with the sword though, did you?" A wily grin crossed his face, knowing he'd pinned Aziraphale. A lie of omission was still a lie, after all.  
  
"I, er..." Watching his normally well spoken angel flounder to pull out an excuse for something was one of Crowley's guilty pleasures. Whether he would ever admit that was a mystery, but he loved it _so much._ "Well, it wasn't a_ lie_, so much as a... fib?"  
  
"Seems t'me the Lord might have a favorite child. 'Course, 'best not to speculate'." Crowley chuckled, chasing away the angel's indignation at having his ancient words thrown back at him by kissing at the corners of his mouth. It soon turned into a proper, but brief kiss, and he stroked the other's cheek with his thumb throughout its course, only stopping when he'd pulled back and rested his forehead against Aziraphale's.  
  
"I love you." He told him, both with the actual words, and without them, too. He banished the wet towel, moved to retrieve the clothes and dry towel from where he'd laid them and dried him. When that was done, he set about dressing him back up the long way, pressing feather light kisses over his cheeks as deft hands slowly aligned every shirt button to its hole, then gently urged him to lift his hips so he could pull the bottoms up all the way after sliding them on.  
  
Once everything was finished, he settled, his head on Aziraphale's chest and arms slung loosely around him, sinking into him when the embrace was returned. "It may seem daft, to say this right now... but thank you. For not giving up on me yet."  
  
A fond hand stroked through the back of his hair. "Never, my love. Never."  
  
New goal: Get him to drop that 'yet'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This guy is the second part from the split at chapter 4, in which we go all in on Crowley's praise kink because of course we do. This one had a lot more edits and additions to the original content than the first part had tbh. 
> 
> As I developed Crowley's character traits a bit more I decided that he needed at least a little gap in between with some time to get used to the baseline concept that doing stuff with Aziraphale was safe before he would even be ready to entertain a discussion about full on sex so it wouldn't work to just do it all in one go lmfao  
Obviously he's still got some issues with the particulars of it all, but hey, we *do* have progress!
> 
> Lately I've been thinking about putting together a playlist to go with this fic. I have a few songs in mind that I'd put in it if I did but I would very much entertain suggestions from the audience if you have any 👀


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was something remarkably normal about visiting a tiny little, blink-and-you'll-miss-it restaurant for lunch with his angel, even though it had been so long. Something downright ordinary and routine. It felt... good, if he was honest. Like some part of 'them' that had been displaced was falling back into its slot now. Falling in line with all the new parts they'd gained over the past couple of months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! I decided to start throwing in a chapter comprised of fluff every once in a while to help keep my sanity intact in between all the heaviness. I wasn't ready to hop back into the meat of the content quite yet so I decided to insert this first little fluff break here. I promise to use them sparingly! This time we have a quick lunch date. There are *tiny* hints of plot in here but nothing wild. Hope all that's alright by y'all :P

Today was a day for good spirits, Aziraphale had been thinking so since the early morning. Crowley had tossed and turned a lot in his sleep the night before, but he hadn't awoken from a night terror. His reactions to them had become slightly less violent over time, but it was still pretty harrowing for both of them when it happened. Each and every single one of those mornings that he woke up normally felt like a small victory by itself, honestly.  
  
It felt doubly so _today,_ when Crowley had woken, lazily rolled over, and sleepily asked him if he'd like to go have lunch. Barring the places they'd gone while on holiday, they hadn't gone out together since the incident. They hadn't gone out together _while home_ was probably a better way of putting it. None of the old haunts had a visit for a while. Nothing new had been discovered.  
  
It hadn't been something they'd been _avoiding,_ per se, but it was easy to tell that Crowley was a lot more comfortable staying at home. In his den, where he knew it was safe. Aziraphale couldn't begrudge him that, really. He didn't know the true depth of it, as he didn't feel it _himself,_ but he'd felt it tangentially through Crowley when they'd been connected, and that was enough for him to get the message.   
  
The world was frightening to him now, on one level or another. There were so many uncertainties about it, and uncertainties were just about the worst thing he could deal with at the moment, with his mind's tendency to race. He was learning to cope with things, little by little, but it felt like he was still at the stage where a setback would be pretty damaging.  
  
All of that just made it all the more significant that he asked. Aziraphale could do absolutely nothing but very enthusiastically say yes. Eventually he would have to begin the process of drawing him back out, anyway. It would be much easier to do so if he was agreeable to the idea to begin with. He needed all the encouragement he could get, and it wasn't like Aziraphale was one to turn down a lunch date.  
  
It had taken most of the rest of the morning to figure out where they would eat. Crowley had promised that he _would_ actually eat, and that complicated things more. Made the stakes higher. Aziraphale couldn't decide what to use that rare opportunity to have him try, for the longest time.  
  
He'd found his idea eventually, though he didn't tell Crowley what it was, only where to go.  
  
The demon finally finished lazing around at about 12:30, and Aziraphale managed to rouse him out of bed pretty soon after to get dressed properly so they could go.  
  
They held hands on the lift ride down to the lobby, moving through conveniently unnoticed by any of the other people coming and going, and Crowley led Aziraphale over to the Bentley, snapping away the parking tickets that were stuck to its front window. He'd been letting Aziraphale borrow it to drive over to the bookshop, but he hadn't driven it _himself_ since...  
  
Since it was on fire.  
  
The brief flash of imagery, first of the car, and then of the bookshop (a consequence of thinking about those two things so closely together, probably) knocked the wind out of him, and he gasped. His hand clenched uncomfortably against Aziraphale's. It squeezed just as tightly as his chest had for that split second.  
  
"Crowley?"  
  
"I'm... I'll be fine. Sorry." He replied, loosening the death grip he'd taken on that hand and letting go to lean against the back of the car, bending over it and closing his eyes as he sucked in that first four second breath through his nose. Very briefly, he felt sick, but it passed as quickly as it had come, making an exit as he successfully managed to boot those malicious thoughts from his mind. Once he'd gotten through the whole cycle and had calmed, he took a (still slightly unsteady) step to the side, getting close enough to reach the passenger door handle so he could open it for his partner, leaning with his arms crossed over the top as he looked at him expectantly.  
  
Aziraphale stepped up to the opposite side of the door and paused, clearly studying Crowley.  
  
"I'll tell you about it later, promise. I said I'm taking you to lunch today, and I'm damn well gonna do it. I'm okay, Angel. Don't worry." He told him, giving him a little smile. He really hadn't expected much from it at first, but it turned out that teaching him box breathing was probably one of the best things Aziraphale could've done for him. It was like a little human made miracle, the way it worked so well to help him level out.  
  
The reassurance worked as intended, and though he was still giving him a look, the other stepped into the car, sliding into the seat. Crowley closed the door behind him and went around, entering from the driver's side. He quickly found that he had to adjust his mirrors. Problems of your lover being a bit shorter than you, he supposed, but it made him smile, thinking about Aziraphale driving the car around, like it was _theirs._ He supposed it sort of _was,_ now. He'd been zoned out and didn't really get to experience it before, but something told him it was adorable. Maybe he'd have to try to orchestrate a way to see it properly.  
  
He moved to start the car, and about that same time, Aziraphale shifted in his seat.  
  
"Do you mind if I put my hand here, dear?" He asked, patting Crowley's leg for emphasis. He had intent to help ease him down, keep him calm. File down and smooth out those jagged edges that had a tendency to linger when he had a minor incident like he'd clearly just had.  
  
"Nah. That's alright." He said, unbothered, as he eased the car out of the parking spot and onto the road proper. He liked the attention, honestly. He _always_ liked the attention.  
  
Aziraphale hummed, pleased by the response. "And how about... this?" He began to stroke his hand slowly over about half of Crowley's thigh, feeling out the edge of that boundary. "Still alright?"  
  
"Ngk." And there it was, that sweet, mildly choked sound that Crowley made when he was surprised. _Pleasantly_ surprised, mind. It made Aziraphale smile to himself. He loved it. "Y-Yeah. We're alright."  
  
"We are?" It was more of a check in than an implication he didn't believe him.  
  
"Swear."  
  
The car lapsed into a calm quiet, save for the sounds of the engine and the occasional slide of Crowley's hands against the steering wheel as he turned it. He hadn't turned on any music today. The sweeps of Aziraphale's hand got longer and more dramatic over time, as they drove toward the chosen destination, but Crowley let him go. It felt nice.  
  
That is, until he felt those fingertips brush a bit _too_ close to the very top of his thigh.  
  
Crowley placed a hand over his to stop him then, and he stilled immediately. It _still felt nice,_ and part of him was protesting the halt, but he knew he would become _very_ distracted _very_ quickly if Aziraphale kept going long enough to make tingles start to rise there. _Something else_ would soon be rising too in that case, and that was something he wanted to avoid if possible. He had other plans in mind, after all. "If you move that hand up _any higher_ I'm gonna have to turn this car around, Angel. Or I'm gonna crash it. One or the other."  
  
Aziraphale seemed to consider it, then moved his hand back down to innocently rest on Crowley's knee instead, stationary now. As much fun as he was having with the sense of physicality that was growing between them, he also wasn't going to risk lunch (or their lives, any more so than he was already doing by letting Crowley drive) for it.  
  
And speaking of Crowley, he was very much enjoying this opportunity to just observe him. It had been a while since he could, since it was a rare moment that Crowley wasn't paying full attention to him if they were in the same space together. He wasn't full on staring right now, he was doing it surreptitiously, so he wasn't sure if the demon actually could tell he was watching, but still.  
  
He couldn't see Crowley's eyes at the moment, since he was wearing his glasses. It was odd to have that layer separating them again after such a length of time, and if he was totally honest, he didn't really like it. It wasn't about him, though, and he knew that. This was just Crowley being Crowley, using what means he could to keep himself in control, and he'd never think to disrespect him by taking his shield away. But even though it was there, between them, he could still feel that gaze darting his way every once in a while, to look at his face, the hand on his knee.  
  
He wondered, and it wasn't the first time, how he'd ever managed to miss his attention for as long as he had. Of course, he was much more free with it now, but...  
  
Well, it really had to have been the willful ignorance more than anything else, didn't it.  
  
He hadn't _naturally_ missed it as much as _forced himself_ to miss it. At least after a certain point, anyway.  
  
The car stopped suddenly, and he looked up. Crowley's head was turned fully toward him. "Well, we're here. This the place?" He asked, indicating the building across the street with his head.  
  
After a quick, cursory glance outside, Aziraphale nodded. "Yes."  
  
Crowley hummed thoughtfully. He hadn't been paying attention to _where_ he was driving, exactly, as he usually didn't have to, but he realized, belatedly, as he turned the car off after parking, that they were 'round Wandsworth. He didn't spend much time over here otherwise, but this was the same area that housed the cafe where he'd usually meet Shadwell. In fact, if he looked down the street far enough, he probably could've seen it.  
  
He hadn't heard from the man since Armageddidn't, and probably wouldn't. Was just as well, really. They weren't really _friends_, especially considering the whole 'actually I'm that guy's son' thing, and he had no need for Shadwell's services anymore. Never would again.  
  
That last meeting... Hell, _all of that,_ already seemed like it had happened years ago.  
  
He shook the thought away, walking around the car to open the door for Aziraphale and help him out. "Look at you, being such a gentleman today."  
  
"I know, right? You just might get me trained one of these days." He shot back, closing the door again and attempting to use his sass to cover the fact that his ears had turned color. It didn't work, but Aziraphale let him think it had by not commenting further on the matter. He then escorted Aziraphale across to the little restaurant, hand on the small of his back again. It seemed to be becoming a habit that he'd do that when they walked together, and far be it from the blonde to complain. He'd do nothing less than encourage it, really. He'd liked it so much the first time, and the feeling was no different at all now.  
  
They found an empty booth in the corner of the restaurant, farthest from the kitchen, and slid into it, somehow managing to drop in when it wasn't too busy, by the look of things at least. They ordered some tea to start, and Crowley picked up his menu, scrutinizing it.  
  
There was something remarkably normal about visiting a tiny little, blink-and-you'll-miss-it restaurant for lunch with his angel, even though it had been so long. Something downright ordinary and routine. It felt... good, if he was honest. Like some part of 'them' that had been displaced was falling back into its slot now. Falling in line with all the new parts they'd gained over the past couple of months.  
  
"What looks good today, love?" Aziraphale asked, after a few minutes of... well, not silence, exactly, but only light background noise from the distant kitchen and the few scattered patrons.  
  
"Hm?" He really didn't know why he bothered even looking at the selections, because he knew Aziraphale didn't need to, and he was sure he had his ideas in suggesting this place. He'd known it by name, which meant he had to have been here a decent number of times. "What d'you think, Angel?"  
  
That question, as it turned out, was precisely what Aziraphale had been waiting for. His answer was prepared and came with zero hesitation. He leaned in like he was telling Crowley a secret, and it was endearing as all Hell. "This little place has the _best_ Sunday Roast. It's simply scrumptious, and you _must_ try it."  
  
Crowley didn't have the heart to say it was only Saturday, but something in the look on his face must've said it for him. Aziraphale got a little twinkle in his eye. "Every day is Sunday when you're an angel, my dear."  
  
Oh. So he intended to do _that,_ huh. He was gonna use the same, very specific kind of subterfuge that Crowley had used with the bus driver to get them back from Tadfield the last time. Make them think it was Sunday, and therefore it was _perfectly normal_ to make a Sunday Roast.  
  
This type of thing was precisely what he'd meant when he said Aziraphale was just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing. Something like this was _so_ his speed, and though it was _utterly ridiculous,_ Crowley loved him for it.  
  
Crowley's fingers played a steady rhythm on the table as he took to looking around the restaurant, a very soft _tap tap tap_ of their tips against the wood, and Aziraphale wondered if there was something in particular that was making him anxious, or if it was just the general idea of being out in public again, in an at least _somewhat_ familiar place, after so long.  
  
Either way, he found it didn't matter in the moment. He reached over and slowly turned Crowley's hand over, taking it in his to fold his fingers over the demon's and hook them together at the second knuckle, effectively stopping his little nervous drumming session. He could both see and feel the tension melt out of him.  
  
For Crowley's part, he gave the angel a sweeping, considerate glance, taking in his warm gaze and ever gentle expression, and thought of his smiles of all sizes that always seemed to make everything brighter and that he absolutely never wanted to live without. Never again.  
  
It made him soft, and it was a wonder he hadn't melted into a puddle of goo in the chair by the time the waiter had returned with their tea. Aziraphale didn't let go of his hand, though. Saying it _surprised_ him wouldn't necessarily be right, but he didn't expect that. For the waiter's part, though, he hadn't seemed to notice at all. He simply pulled out his little pad of paper and stood poised, looking back and forth uncertainly between them until Aziraphale started talking.  
  
Crowley finished his tea while watching Aziraphale smile pleasantly and have an equally pleasant little chat with the man as he ordered their food. His thumb slid across the angel's knuckles, slowly, fondly, gaze dropping to fix on their joined hands.  
  
As such, he hadn't noticed the waiter had left, until he felt eyes on him and looked up to find Aziraphale looking back at him with that signature, unparalleled tenderness. He felt warm and fuzzy. It seemed sort of stupid that he still felt that way after all this time, that it still affected him this much, but at the same time, he would never wish for it to go away.  
  
Aziraphale carefully poured him another cup of tea with his free hand, and he smiled in response. "Thanks."  
  
"Of course, dear."

The echo of 'Anytime. Anything for you.' followed his words, without him even needing to say it.  
  
One of their easy silences descended as they drank their tea. The background noise picked back up again, but Crowley found the sounds of clinking dishware from varying points of the room and the low rumble of cars on the street outside didn't bother him right now. He felt content.  
  
Their waiter came back to the table after a time, setting their plates down in front of them. Aziraphale thanked him for the both of them, and finally let go of Crowley's hand. He promptly picked up his fork to dig in.  
  
Crowley scrutinized his food for a moment before doing so, though. He couldn't say he really _cared_ to eat; he didn't like it even a tenth as much as Aziraphale did, but the plate in front of him was certainly pleasing to the eye.  
  
It turned out that it was actually quite pleasing to his tongue, too. He quickly found that out as he cut off a piece of the meat to bite into it, humming agreeably at the taste.  
  
Full perception of each other lapsed for an unknown amount of time when they'd both finally turned their whole attention to eating.  
  
Awareness gradually filtered back in as Aziraphale's plate emptied, and one thing stuck out to him immediately: it was much quieter than it should be. Any sound that had been coming from the other side of the table had ceased. Precisely how long ago, he didn't know, as immersed as he'd been in his food. He was most of the way through his Yorkshire Puddings when he'd noticed. Even so, it made him look up, and he came face to face with a quite familiar sight.  
  
"You're staring, dear." Even with the glasses, he could tell. This was a position he'd seen Crowley in before. Body rigid, one arm braced against the table, head turned toward him, unmoving, with the other arm perched in front of him, fingers curled in front of his mouth as his chin rested in his palm. He couldn't help but flush a bit under the scrutiny. He knew precisely what that posture meant, even if Crowley hadn't flat out told him so as of yet.  
  
It really wasn't like he didn't _know_ Crowley had watched him like this in the past. It wouldn't be far-fetched to say that perhaps he genuinely hadn't noticed it the _first_ time, maybe even the first _two,_ but it had become a fairly regular pattern. It would've been hard to ignore when these signs were so obvious. He'd just preferred to conveniently pretend otherwise when it had happened before. One of many things he'd blocked out due to necessity that he no longer had to.  
  
"Oh, fuck." Crowley started, and whispered the curse, letting out the heavy breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and pulled his clenched fist away from the table, sitting back in his seat properly. Well, _Crowley_ properly. "Sorry."  
  
"Well, it's not like I _mind._" He hummed, reaching up to wipe a dot of gravy away from his face with the pad of his thumb and poking his tongue out to clean it away. "I just know you're trying to keep your cool while we're out."  
  
It occurred to Crowley that there was a decent amount of disconnect between what Aziraphale was _saying_ and what he was _doing,_ but the sentiment of him watching out for him like that felt nice anyway.  
  
Part of him also had the thought that if Aziraphale ever put any _real_ effort into seducing him, he'd liquefy right on the spot, if those casual advances were any indication. But he'd gone seeking permission to _make those advances_ in the first place, and it had been freely given.  
  
Actually, somehow Crowley felt like it was even helping to further soften him to the idea of their physical relationship, seeing continual proof that Aziraphale wanted him. It was easy to read that in the way the demon responded to them, so he'd been slipping in these tiny teases, now and again, since that first time. It was very clear that now that Aziraphale had gotten a little taste of those peaks, he was a lot more interested than he had been before.  
  
That said, he never actually pushed at the boundary. Never applied any pressure, not that he'd even want to. Crowley was still in complete control of the course. That was just how he wanted it, and in fact was probably the most important part of the whole ordeal, honestly.  
  
"Have you finished eating, love?"  
  
"Huh? Uh... yeah." He said, absently, pushing the plate toward Aziraphale and turning back to his tea. He'd managed to eat all of the meat, and about half of each of the accompaniments. That was a lot, for him. He'd certainly given Aziraphale bigger plates to help him finish before.  
  
"Oh, you ate quite a bit. You liked it?" The angel asked, moving the remaining contents of Crowley's plate onto his before stacking them together.  
  
"Wasn't bad." A noncommittal shrug accompanied his answer.  
  
"And would you have it again?"  
  
This one was the million dollar question, and he sat expectantly, finding himself excited for the answer.  
  
Crowley considered it, ultimately nodding. "If I felt like eating, yeah."  
  
Aziraphale smiled with satisfaction. That was probably just about the highest praise that food could get from Crowley. He'd chosen well, then.  
  
He made short work of the remaining food, wiping at his mouth with a paper napkin plucked from the dispenser sitting at the end of the table up against the wall. He glanced up at Crowley, who was now gazing outside through the window on the far wall, clearly having been doing his best not to end up entangled into his favorite pastime again. It made Aziraphale chuckle lowly, and he took a moment to enjoy it before clearing his throat. "Are you ready, sweetest?"  
  
"If you are."  
  
A snap later, the bill was paid, and they were on their way again.  
  
Aziraphale sighed delightfully as the door of the restaurant closed behind him. "Well. What are you in the mood for, now?"  
  
Crowley bit back the automatic, teasing response about alcohol that wanted to come out, and instead gave a wide shrug. "I'm thinking Wandsworth Common? What d'you reckon?"  
  
There was another, _very specific_ park (there were a lot of things about them and parks, he'd come to realize) that was somewhat nearby as well, but... he filed that one away for later.  
  
At certain times, like this, he felt like a walking contradiction. Every fiber of his being wanted to avoid going to that place ever again. That stubborn, treacherous voice inside his head would surely dig its fangs in either way and let him know how weak he was, remind him of every single thing that had gone wrong, but still another part of him played for two sides. That part of him _wanted_ to go, thought it'd be helpful to some extent. Maybe that was the part of him sprouting up that actually wanted to see him get better.  
  
Maybe he'd think on it.  
  
But before he could think about it very deeply _right now,_ his attention was stolen by Aziraphale feigning a scandalized reaction to the invitation. It clearly took all he had in him not to let the exaggerated facade crack, even before he actually said anything. "Oh, my! You wily serpent, Tempting me with your wicked ways. A _walk in the park!_ Outrageous. _Obscene._ Why, if you keep talking like _that,_ I might even have to let you take me home later."  
  
Crowley just laughed, reaching out to take his arm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'ma be honest, that scene where Crowley is deadass just *staring* at Aziraphale while he eats always straight up takes me out when I watch episode 1 and that is all I have to say to explain myself lmfao
> 
> We still have quite a ways left to go on this story (every time I mention this the chapter count has grown and it's hilarious that keeps happening tbh but at this point this is my child and I want to do right by it so I will write as many chapters as it takes to be satisfied) but my brain has cranked out a couple ideas for what I might get into next and I thought I'd tell y'all about them since there's not much else to talk about this week! One of them is a pretty goofy human AU with an extremely nerdy concept and the other is more of a serious canon divergence thing (that I actually started writing at about the same time as I started on this, so some of that is actually already done, fun fact)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coming here, doing this *here*, had been the demon's idea. Even though they could shut humans out and be ignored, he insisted on doing it during the night when the park was silent. He didn't want anyone around, and Aziraphale couldn't blame him. The site was emotionally charged for them like few others were.
> 
> The intended subject of this session wasn't too hard to guess, as a result. There was a lead weight on top of his heart when he thought on it. This would be a hard one for *him*, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise, we're early again! A whole day this time! (Don't get used to it though, usually I'm writing and tweaking up to the very last minute until I tap out and throw the new chapter usually at around 3am Monday morning lmfao)
> 
> I probably should've warned that last week was sort of the calm before the storm, but now we're here. Oops. This is a mind healing chapter, so it's heavy by default, but considering the specific subject matter, there's a lil extra punch to the feels involved here. 
> 
> I actually whacked y'all over the head with a pretty heavy hint at what was coming up when we got toward the end of the last chapter, but that was because I'd actually already been working on this one. This was one I *really* wanted to get right, so the fluff was also placed in that slot to buy me more time to put into crafting this, basically lmfao

Alternative rendezvous point number three. The old bandstand in Battersea Park.  
  
It hadn't been a place Aziraphale had ever intended to see again, if he was honest.  
  
But even so, he found himself sitting here on the floor, across from Crowley. Upon a very familiar, slightly glowing circle, holding his hands. He'd since realized the contact wasn't necessarily _needed,_ but it felt nice to keep to it, anyway.  
  
Coming here, doing this _here,_ had been the demon's idea. Even though they could shut humans out and be ignored, he insisted on doing it during the night when the park was silent. He didn't want anyone around, and Aziraphale couldn't blame him. The site was emotionally charged for them like few others were.  
  
The intended subject of this session wasn't too hard to guess, as a result. There was a lead weight on top of his heart when he thought on it. This would be a hard one for _him,_ too.  
  
"Coming back here's a real bitch."  
  
Aziraphale found that he had to wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. He could also understand the reasoning behind it all, though. It might make for more pain in the moment, but at the same time, the deeper they cut all at once, the less it would hurt in the long run. They wouldn't have to keep reopening these wounds if they could manage to cut out all the rot in one fell swoop.  
  
"I've just been thinking about it lately, y'know? Off and on. I knew we'd... have to talk about this, eventually. It was a pretty big fucking deal."  
  
Again, Aziraphale had no objections to any of that. Crowley was only speaking the truth.  
  
It was also a pretty good sign that he was mulling over things like this now, all things considered. Aziraphale hadn't guessed it at all, hadn't had even a hint of it, but it was a nice little bit of knowledge to gain. "When did it cross your mind, first?"  
  
"The day we went for lunch."  
  
"Ah." It had been just over two weeks since then, so... clearly he'd been putting some genuine thought into it. It wasn't something he'd decided to do rashly, at the spur of the moment. Aziraphale really couldn't help but be proud of him.  
  
There was a tiny little doubt poking up in the back of his head, worried that Crowley was actually taking too much upon himself again. He'd done it in the original session when they tried this out, so it wasn't like it'd be the first time. He'd tried to take the bull by the horns and go straight at the worst of his pains right off the bat and it hadn't ended well.  
  
But by now, he'd learned a bit. He _might_ still tend toward some foolhardy behavior and push himself too hard, too soon. That was certainly possible, and not something he'd be able to rule out completely. But he was learning to deal with things, learning to cope. Aziraphale supposed he'd just have to put trust in him and believe that he at least somewhat knew what he could and couldn't handle.  
  
And if it turned sour again, well... he could deal with it. He'd done it before, and he could do it again.  
  
"The _whole thing_ bugs me, y'know. It probably couldn't have gone another way. Probably _shouldn't_ have, even. But it still sucked. There's still no way it can feel anything but all wrong. There_ is **some**_ stuff that bugs me more than most, though. 'You were an angel once' just wasn't something I wanted to hear. I didn't want you to tell me that. I didn't want _that_ of all things to be what you offered me as something that was supposed to be comforting. It pissed me off."  
  
Aziraphale could see the tendons on the back of his hand flex, preceding the squeeze he gave, before looking back up at his face. There was a fleeting movement of his jaw, every once in a while. He was grinding his teeth.  
  
"The pointlessness of thinking about it only made me angrier. That's why I gave you such a clear cut rejection. It _was_ a long time ago. It didn't matter. I wasn't an angel anymore. Hadn't been for eons, and wouldn't be one again. Fuck, I didn't even _want_ to be. I've _never_ actually wanted to be. I didn't want to be put back in that environment. As much as my Fall was fucked up, as much as it's hurt me... seeing Heaven _now?_ Seeing how much worse it got? I'm almost _glad_ it happened."  
  
He wasn't sure what he'd call that tone in Crowley's voice at the end, or if there _was_ even something to call it. It was somewhere close to pity, but there was something else in there too. An element he couldn't quite identify.  
  
"No... what I wanted, _all_ I wanted, was _acceptance._ But, again... I wasn't _allowed_ to want _anything._ Not you. Not exoneration. Not forgiveness. That... forgiveness? _That_ was something I ached for, all that time, and I _never_ got it. _Only from **you**._"  
  
That belief of his that he wasn't allowed to want things suddenly made even more sense. It was like those last couple of dots connected in Aziraphale's mind, the ones that were preventing him from seeing the complete truth of the whole picture.  
  
He'd believed he wasn't allowed to want anything not just because he was a demon, but also because the only things he'd ever wanted were presented to him as unattainable. They were insurmountable walls standing in front of him. He wasn't going to get forgiveness from God. He wasn't going to be vindicated. So, naturally, it had helped reinforce his belief that he wasn't allowed to have Aziraphale, either.  
  
"Don't you see, _that's_ why it hit me so fucking hard when you said 'I forgive you' to me. All that time, I was unforgivable. There was no room for doubt. No reason to think otherwise. For over six millennia, I was _sure_ that was how it was. Then you just... waltzed right in and changed that. Snatched my feet out from under me and turned me upside down. Shook me right down to my core and threw away everything I thought I knew. I didn't know how to deal with that, I couldn't. Especially not while we were in the middle of all that. So I just... _didn't._ I _didn't_ deal with it. I ran away instead."  
  
There was still some lingering remorse there, when it came to that. It was plain as day in the way that he spoke.  
  
"Demons are unforgivable as a rule, but me? _Me,_ in particular? I'd never been offered anything even _remotely resembling_ forgiveness before that moment. There weren't any apologies, even though I shouldn't have Fallen in the first place. She knows everything? Well, then, surely She knew She was making a huge fucking mistake, and just... did it anyway?"  
  
Again, Aziraphale could think nothing else when faced with this information than that Crowley was well within his rights to be upset. His anguish made sense. His disdain and his fury toward God and the Great Plan made _so much_ sense. It wasn't about being a demon, in itself. He didn't _like_ that, no, but it wasn't what bothered him.  
  
It was about being falsely accused. It was about being cast aside when he'd done nothing to deserve it. He'd been wrongfully sacrificed, thrown out like he was garbage, all without even knowing _why._ He _couldn't_ know why, there wasn't any closure to be had, because there hadn't actually been a reason for that to happen at all.  
  
It was just... wrong.  
  
"But, y'know... it doesn't matter anymore. None of it does. The Almighty Herself could come down here _right now_ and invite me in, cast those gates open wide, directly say She fucked up, even tell me She's sorry, and I wouldn't go back. Not in a million years. Fuck Her, fuck them, and fuck Hell. I wouldn't go _anywhere else._ I belong here, with _you._ The only person in this entire fucking universe who has ever believed I was worth _anything,_ much less being forgiven. _We_ belong here. Together."  
  
This silence was a slightly charged one, perhaps drawing in the energy from their surroundings through Crowley's words. Aziraphale could feel sparks playing against the edge of his heart. What Crowley had said had hit him differently, this time.  
  
It was a moment like this that made him feel, with his _entire being,_ precisely how much he loved Crowley. The intensity made it feel like every single one of those waves of it that he'd had to hold back in the past were surging up again all at once.  
  
"You've always told me you're not as good at knowing what to say, but _my goodness,_ Crowley." Aziraphale laughed, honestly a little floored by it all. "I find I'm the one at a disadvantage, this time. Anything I could say to that seems like it wouldn't be enough. I can only agree with your assessment that our place is here, together." He said, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips.  
  
"And I _will_ say... shame on anyone who ever played a part in making you think you were worthless." Aziraphale hummed, looking down at their hands. His fingers brushed over the ring on Crowley's finger, loosened it, pulled it up a bit, then seated it again, repeating the chain of motion a few times. Now he was the one absentmindedly playing with it. "It's very much untrue, you know."  
  
"Well, piss on them. I only need you."  
  
_That's nice and all, but you were still a real piece of shit, you know. It's a wonder he still wants anything to do with you after you tried to force him into killing a child. Twice, let's not forget._  
  
That voice was in his ear, sadistic as ever. Trying its hardest to hurt him. But, of course, he should've seen it coming. He should've known it would pipe up with something. He _had,_ really. He'd just conveniently put that fact out of his mind until now.  
  
But Crowley also found that, for once, there was nothing he could raise to easily counter the voice with. In his eyes, there was no untruth in what was being presented.  
  
He _had_ done wrong, there. He'd done so much wrong.  
  
But... he _could_ try to make amends.  
  
"I'm..." He started, then stopped again, loath to ruin the serenity of the moment. But he knew he needed to say something. He wasn't done yet. "I'm sorry for trying to have you kill Adam. And Warlock too, for that matter. Words don't really do it justice, Angel. I _knew_ you didn't want to hurt anybody. I _knew_ you'd absolutely never want to kill, especially by the second time. You'd already told me. Let alone... a _kid?_ Surely you wouldn't have liked that idea any more than I did. I just... I dunno. I couldn't come up with any better ideas when faced with the thought of the shit hitting the fan. One life versus everything we were standing to lose? It seemed like an easy choice. I'm not gonna make excuses. It was a shitty choice that I was shitty for making... but it was an _easy_ one, if the alternative meant losing you."  
  
He_ was_ genuinely sorry that he'd tried to force such a thing on Aziraphale. That was the one thing he thought he _would_ change, regardless of anything else. He'd find some other way to deal with things. But he couldn't say with any confidence that he would approach it any differently, in general, if he had to do it all over again now, and he didn't know if that made it worse than it already was. He _hoped_ in this hypothetical situation that they would guide Adam again, but... he still wasn't sure if he was a good enough person to _knowingly risk_ losing Aziraphale.  
  
He knew he probably wasn't.  
  
It was certainly true that he didn't quite qualify to be a 'real' demon. He wasn't evil enough, and didn't have the capacity to _be_ evil enough. He'd had to get very good at toeing the line to stay alive and under the radar all this time. That said... he would _never_ let himself be called a saint, or anything close to it. He might let Aziraphale call him good, because when he got down to it, that wasn't a total lie. He _did_ have a good core in him, and he tended to err on the side of using it, in total defiance of what he was supposed to be.  
  
He still definitely had his 'things', though, and chief among the triggers for those 'things' was Aziraphale and his safety. He would do _anything_ for him. _Anything_ in defense of him.  
  
Even things he wouldn't do otherwise.  
  
It was all done, though, so there was no need to think about it too much. Hypotheticals were hypotheticals for a reason. No need to dwell on it. Though he may have agreed with its assessment this time, he wasn't gonna let that voice force him into being sick over something he couldn't change now.  
  
"Still not making excuses... I _know_ it was bad, and I'm not trying to justify it. But I do want to explain a bit so maybe you can understand _why_ I did what I did. We were gonna be separated forever, if things went how they were supposed to, and I was desperate not to let that happen. Maybe we would've actually had to fight each other. Nah... that's not a strong enough way to put it. I think we definitely would've, if those sadistic bastards had anything to say about it. They would've taken steps and made it so you and I had a direct conflict. We were being nothing but trouble for them, and I'm sure they would've loved seeing us suffer." He knew it wouldn't do to dwell on the specifics of this, either. Thinking of the 'what if's would only cause both of them more pain. So he allowed the thought to remain, just long enough to acknowledge it, before pushing it along to pass through and out.  
  
Despite that, he found he couldn't let go of all of the guilt that easily. "I was such a coward. I couldn't bear the idea of doing it myself, killing a kid, so I tried to pass it off on you. _Both times._ Since it was the bloody _Antichrist_ we were dealing with, the extra shitty part of me tried to play on your righteousness. That was especially fucked up of me to do, and all I can do now is apologize. And I don't mean the put on kind of apologizing I gave you when I was trying to get you to leave with me. I'm serious about it. I mean it. I shouldn't have done that to you, and I'm sorry."  
  
Aziraphale paused. It was a long pause, and it_ felt_ just as important as it _was._ He was letting Crowley's words sink in while he considered his. He always did... but this time it felt like he was sifting them through a couple of extra times. He wanted to get this right. And to get this right... to _really_ get it right, well, he had a lot more to shed light on, when it came to this situation in particular.  
  
It had finally come _his_ turn to receive a deep cut.  
  
"This is a point that I'll agree with you on... it's one of the few things you've done that I can't really rationalize away. But, you know, you're here now, recognizing that it was wrong. There should be no question that I'll accept your apologies. But even still, we _both_ did things in that situation that weren't exactly _good._ You keep trying to take all of the blame onto your own shoulders, but like I keep telling you, it wasn't just you."  
  
"What d'you mean? I was the one who--"  
  
"I mean..." The angel interrupted him mid-sentence, and his mouth snapped shut immediately. Aziraphale really wasn't in the habit of cutting him off. He could count the number of times it had happened on one hand. In those rare instances, that meant things were serious. "I mean the _lies_ I told you here. They were just..._ oh, Crowley._ It doesn't matter what I do, I'm not sure I can ever make up for that, not truly. It made things so much worse. _I_ hurt _you_ on purpose, too. The only truth I showed you while we stood in this spot was an accident, that moment when I cracked. Before I slammed the pieces back together. You know what I'm talking about, right?"  
  
There was only one thing it could've been, really. "'You can't leave, Crowley.'"  
  
Aziraphale nodded the confirmation, jaw firmly set. He was angry with himself for all he'd done here, and... and, he was also desperately trying to keep it together. "We're not friends? We _are._ We _were._ We're _more than that._ We've been for _so long._ We're an angel and a demon? What the Hell did that matter? It _didn't._ I'd long since gotten past the stage of actually caring about that. I don't even like you? I _loved_ you. I knew _you_ loved _me._ Perhaps it had all still been complicated at the moment, but those facts were absolute. We're on opposite sides? There is no 'our side'? It's _over?_"  
  
That was it. _That_ was the one that hit the hardest. The one he regretted the most. His exhale was ragged, almost like it had been punched out of him.  
  
"I said those things... I _really_ said them because I thought _I_ needed to hear them. To remind myself of what the situation_ actually_ was, or what it was _supposed_ to be. I never fought my feelings harder than I did in that moment. I fought what I _wanted_ to do with what I knew I _should_ do. It was all I could do to stomp down the part of me... _this_ part of me that you see before you now, that wanted to throw aside everything else and just... go with you. I absolutely could _not_ give in to you. I knew I _mustn't._ But even so, I _wanted to._ You don't know _how close_ I came to breaking when you raised the idea that we go off together."  
  
Actually, come to think of it, he'd cracked _twice._ He'd done a _slightly_ better job of hiding it the second time. He'd covered it up, scoffed at the idea. He'd played it off like it was ridiculous, when it was actually anything but.  
  
It felt miserable, to be admitting this now. It was well established, since the very beginning, that doing all of this had to hurt Crowley before it could help him, but this was the first time he'd truly been required to participate in that part of it himself. He knew it was necessary, but it didn't make it any easier.  
  
"I was a coward too, and I hurt you. I _knew_ you would be hurt by what I said, there was no way you wouldn't be. But I said it anyway. I threw you into the crossfire and made you a casualty of my own conflicted feelings. Then I watched you walk away from me, and I _knew_ I was never going to see you again. I was never going to see you again, and it pained me so deeply I'm not even sure I can articulate that feeling now. I already regretted it, but I couldn't take any of it back. I broke both of our hearts on this spot."  
  
His cowardice had really been off the charts. Thinking back, he hadn't been able to look straight at Crowley but for a scant few seconds at a time, fearing his resolve would break. He'd also known full well what he'd been about to do to him, and he couldn't bear to watch. He looked away, rather than face it.  
  
It was the most spineless he thought he'd probably ever been in his six millennia lifetime.  
  
"It _did_ hurt. It hurt a lot. You _did_ like me, and I could see that one for a lie, but when I said so, it was more of a... a bluff, really. Something to try to put the brakes on you. A last ditch. I didn't know what to expect, but I could feel you pulling away from me. I was trying to get you back, and it didn't work. Didn't help me deal with your next words any better, either. So yeah, maybe you did break my heart. And yeah, maybe you broke your own heart."  
  
He tilted Aziraphale's head up by his chin to make him look at him again.  
  
"But you know what you did after that? Hm? You put them back together again, too. We were so fucking _stupid._ Honestly, we were. But you fixed it." The ripple of returning energy was much stronger than any time before, but even so, it felt like it had nothing on the words Crowley spoke. His eyes softened, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against Aziraphale's. "I forgive you."  
  
The reciprocation of that phrase wasn't something that Aziraphale realized he needed until this very moment.  
  
It hit him like a wrecking ball. Left him quaking inside.  
  
And then Crowley said it _again._  
  
"Aziraphale." Utterance of the name was steadying, comforting, and he was absolutely certain he'd _never_ get tired of saying it, never get tired of the sweetness of it on his tongue, even if he tended toward 'Angel' more often. "I'll _always_ forgive you."  
  
This time it broke him. Snapped that thin thread that had still been holding him together. Made his breath catch in his throat. His eyes welled up and spilled over before he even had time to notice that his chest had tightened.  
  
"O-Oh... _oh._" He hiccuped, sitting back and raising his hands to hastily wipe at his cheeks. "I-I'm sorry, my dear boy. I--"  
  
"Don't." Crowley's voice was firm but kind as he drew him back in. "You don't have to keep a brave face for me, Aziraphale. I don't need or want you to pretend you're not hurting if you _are._ Don't neglect your feelings for my sake. I can promise you I'm _never_ gonna see you as weak. Don't need you to show me a flawless front to know you're strong, or for you to be able to help me get better. If you need to do this, then do it. I'm here."  
  
It was actually physically paining Aziraphale in this moment, how much love existed there, packed in between and threaded through each of those words, and in equal measure, how much of it that felt like it was trying to burst out from his own chest. Since they'd begun to deepen their bond, after Crowley's first incident, he'd been able to pick up the demon's love with his deeper senses, for the first time ever. But it seemed that no matter how long he spent immersed in it, at points it was still just so intense that it was almost overwhelming. 

It was both a blessing and a curse, but it was also so worth it.  
  
"It's okay to not be okay, y'know? You taught me that yourself. Maybe y'didn't _say_ as much, but... I've learned it from you. Just need somebody to be there for you, prop you up when you need help. Lucky for me, I've got you. And, lucky for you... you've got me."  
  
Aziraphale sniffed, pressing Crowley close to him. As close as could be, in the present situation. Their chests were pressed flush, and he could feel Crowley's heartbeat, a bit fast, a bit hard, but steady and true all the same. Tears dripped from his eyes and onto Crowley's shoulder. "You really are ever so good to me, love."  
  
"I'm only as good as you deserve me to be, Angel. You probably deserve _more,_ actually, but I do the best I can."  
  
There was _just enough_ self deprecation in there to make Aziraphale frown against Crowley's shoulder, bringing him back to himself a bit. It had finally come time to slide that thing out of his back pocket and deal with it, apparently. This seemed as good a time as any.  
  
"Stop it, Crowley. Don't sell yourself so short. You're so good. You're lovely. You're beautiful. You're kind. You're_ worthy._ You are, you are, you are." Aziraphale countered, punctuating each descriptor with a tight squeeze, pummeling him with them at a rapid fire pace before he had a chance to argue. "I don't care what it takes, I don't care _how long_ it takes, one of these days I'm going to get you to stop thinking that _any_ of those things aren't true. That you don't deserve me. You _do._ There is absolutely _no soul_ in existence, in this world or any other, that's more worthy of me than you."  
  
Crowley was rendered a bit breathless from the outburst. The volleys of praise, sure. That was a baseline. But also the emotion that was packed into all of that. The absolute truth and conviction he could feel in the words.  
  
He wondered, if Aziraphale kept expanding his heart like this, over and over, if it would manage to fit in his chest anymore.  
  
"C'mere." He said, scooting over to press his back against the decorative railing framing the edge of the poured concrete they were sitting on. Aziraphale followed him, as he was bid, craving the continued closeness just as much as Crowley was.  
  
The session and the ceremony of it all had long since been forgotten. The circle had dropped a while ago, without their notice.  
  
Crowley's arm wrapped around his angel, tucking him underneath it and pressing his head into that space between his chin and his chest. It was a nook that seemed custom designed, carved out just for him, with how perfectly he fit into it.  
  
It was the same the other way 'round, too.  
  
Nothing would ever convince him they weren't always going to end up like this, at this point. That they weren't meant for this. It was so painfully obvious that they were.  
  
He'd never have it any other way again.  
  
The demon looked out, and noticed suddenly, dully, that it was raining. When had it started raining?  
  
He didn't know. It didn't matter. It was London, it was _always_ fucking raining.  
  
All that _did_ matter was Aziraphale, pressed closely up against his side, a gentle hand idly playing with the metal tassels at the end of his most favorite accessory.  
  
Quite miraculously, this remained just light and pleasant rain, and there was no progression toward a more serious storm. There was no thunder, no lightning.  
  
Nothing to disturb the calm of sitting here, holding Aziraphale to his chest like he'd been held to the angel's so many times before. The feel of his lover's arms wrapped securely around his waist, his weight against him. The occasional press of lips to the underside of his jaw.

Nothing to take away from how good it felt to be together in this moment, placid and cathartic.  
  
Comforting, and being comforted.  
  
They stayed like that, _just like that,_ listening to the soothing sound of rain pattering against the roof of the bandstand, until the sun was just beginning to creep out and threaten its rise over the city, peeking through the clouds.  
  
"Angel?"  
  
Aziraphale had been so quiet as he rested against him, and at some point his hand had stilled. If Crowley didn't know him better he'd have thought he'd fallen asleep. "Hm?"  
  
"Wanna head back? 'S almost morning. People will start showing up soon. All those crazy fucks that wake up at the ass crack of dawn to go jogging. They won't care about a little rain."  
  
The clear disdain in his tone was infinitely amusing. Aziraphale couldn't help laughing, despite himself, and he sat up. "Alright."  
  
Crowley moved to stand, offering the other his hand so he could pull him up as well. "This, uh... this has been... really good, I think. It sucked... it hurt, but I'm glad we did it." It really had been worth the payoff, as far as he was concerned. He felt lighter, much more so than he had after the other sessions, and he was pretty sure Aziraphale did, too.  
  
That inkling was confirmed shortly thereafter. "I am, too. Thank you, darling." His gratitude had a bit of a punch behind it. He wasn't just thanking him for the idea, after all. He was thanking him for... well, _everything._ "I love you." He told him, giving that shy side glance. He was feeling extra besotted at the moment, if such a thing were even possible.  
  
And of course, as it usually did, that reeled Crowley right in. "I love you, too." He smiled, moving in close to give him a fleeting little peck on the lips before drawing back, pressing one hand lightly to the side of his face. "Now... let's go home. I think I heard a rumor that there's some warm cocoa and a cuddly demon waiting for you back at the flat. Maybe if you're lucky, it'll even keep raining. You can wrap up together and keep listening to it. Wouldn't that just be a miracle!"  
  
The blonde's smile was very soft now. "Well,_ I_ think that sounds rather lovely."  
  
But Crowley only got about two steps away before Aziraphale reflexively reached out to grab his sleeve, making him turn back around. "Crowley?"  
  
Aziraphale was standing at the very edge of the covered part of the bandstand, looking directly at Crowley now. He'd gone down one stair, having moved out of the way to open an umbrella he'd conjured, and it was just enough of a drop that they were more or less at eye level for once.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
It was already _known,_ what he he'd been about to say, but it still felt important to him to say it anyway. Standing here. On this spot.  
  
"We're on our side."  
  
After his words faded, there was nothing but the sound of rain again.  
  
Crowley stared, and he stared back.  
  
There was a connection that forged itself between their eyes, very similar to the phenomenon that had taken place when they'd made love.  
  
This one said _'Even if the Earth crumbles under our feet, I'll be with you. It's not my side or your side anymore. It's ours, or it's none. There **is** no me without you.'_  
  
Sort of ironic, considering that very recently there had been a real risk of that happening, the Earth crumbling. It didn't detract from the sentiment, though. If anything, it actually might've strengthened it.  
  
Once his wits were restored to him and brain function came filtering back in, it was plain to see that Crowley was taken aback by the sudden declaration, but that surprised face gradually melted away to a toothy grin. "You're damn right, we are."  
  
He offered Aziraphale his free hand, and the angel took it without hesitation, stepping underneath the raised umbrella to stand beside him.  
  
The meaning of this, the symbolism, wasn't lost on either of them. Crowley had more than one important reciprocation in him today, it seemed.  
  
He hooked his arm into his angel's to pull him back in close and begin walking him back down the long path towards the Bentley, their shoulders brushing as they nestled together under the umbrella.  
  
When they'd left this spot last time, it had been the most fractured they'd ever been.   
Now they were leaving here the most _together_ they'd ever been.  
  
Funny how that worked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm especially proud of this chapter, honestly! These ones always take a lot more effort to pull together to my satisfaction, but I'm really happy with how this one ended up. I actually think this might be some of the best stuff I've ever written. I hope y'all enjoyed it too :)
> 
> I haven't mentioned it for a few weeks, but I'm also over at [tumblr](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/) if anybody would like to interact with me more directly. I'm mostly reblogging ineffable husbands fanart and shouting into the void bc I literally follow 3 people at present but I would love to make friends 😂


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that they'd gone and sorted through some of the clutter in Crowley's mind, Aziraphale had felt it appropriate to begin attempting to address his pyrophobia. The best idea he had on how to begin with that was a method he'd read about called 'exposure therapy'.
> 
> The concept was fairly simple, and the name sort of said everything. It was about building up a tolerance to the fear through exposure to it, therefore making it less likely to trigger, over time. Little doses, here and there, were best. At least to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Been a minute since we dealt with the actual fire stuff in any sort of significant way, but we're doing a little bit of that this week! First part of the chapter has a rough place or two in store for Crowley but there be softness waiting around the bend my mateys

"I'm going to turn it on now, alright?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
'It' being a small space heater, set up on a small pedestal in the center of the room. Far enough away that only a very mild amount of heat could reach the chair Crowley was sitting in, facing it.  
  
Now that they'd gone and sorted through some of the clutter in Crowley's mind, Aziraphale had felt it appropriate to begin attempting to address his pyrophobia. The best idea he had on how to begin with that was a method he'd read about called 'exposure therapy'.  
  
The concept was fairly simple, and the name sort of said everything. It was about building up a tolerance to the fear through exposure to it, therefore making it less likely to trigger, over time. Little doses, here and there, were best. At least to begin with.  
  
This was how he'd come up with the idea of a space heater to start with. As heating sources went, they were fairly tame, when handled correctly. He'd used one in the back room of the bookshop, before. Of course, he _definitely_ wouldn't mention that. He was no fool. He was also glad that Crowley hadn't thought to ask, though.  
  
The main point of this was that he wanted to see how Crowley would respond to the elevation of temperature first, before he tried to use anything with an actual flame.  
  
Pitching the general idea to him had been a bit of a minefield, but it was one he'd navigated _very_ carefully, and as such, it had gone alright in the end. Even so, he hadn't been sure if it would get off the ground, at first. But Crowley had woken up quietly and feeling pretty well today, so they'd mutually agreed that it was a good time to test it out.  
  
"Remember: You're to tell me the instant you start feeling uncomfortable. _Before_ it becomes overwhelming. Don't try to tough it out, Crowley. I mean it. This is meant to help you. It can't do its job properly if it makes you truly panic." It would cause a negative association if that happened, of course.  
  
"I know." He was a bit irritated by the emphasis on this fact, and his growly tone showed it. But he also knew if Aziraphale _hadn't_ told him, and been so _firm_ about it, that was likely to have been precisely what he would've done, too. He'd only done it because he _knew_ Crowley. "Sorry." He offered, pinching the skin between his eyebrows.  
  
Aziraphale shook his head, indicating he'd taken no offense. "It isn't a weakness to recognize that you have limits, my love. You've done it before, right? You can do it here, too." He said, reaching down to hover his finger over the switch, glancing at Crowley again. He heaved a sigh, and then nodded. They had to get on with it before he lost his damn nerve.  
  
Aziraphale flicked the switch, and the rings inside of the small appliance began to glow faintly red, then transition to orange, one by one. Crowley swallowed reflexively. It was just his base amount of nerves doing that, mostly. He wasn't sure what was going to happen, here. The sight of the color itself and even the warm glow didn't bother him much. Seemed like he'd gotten past that part.  
  
No, if anything, in this situation, it was the actual _heat_ he was afraid of.  
  
It wasn't offensive. Not _yet,_ anyway. It hadn't really been given a chance to be, as it was still heating up.  
  
Aziraphale was watching him, from the position he'd taken up about midway between the heater and the chair he was sitting in. "Alright?"  
  
"Yeah. 'M just... nervous. Normal kind of nervous, I mean." He took a moment to think about what he'd said, and shrugged. He'd concede the point that 'normal' didn't really apply to him. In any sense of the word. "Well, normal for _me."_  
  
"I think that's to be expected, really."  
  
"Yeah... I guess. Just kinda... unsettling, y'know? I mean, I know I'm gonna freak out. This is gonna make me freak out. That'll be the outcome here, in the end. It's just a matter of how long it takes it to happen. How does somebody... know that, and go along with it anyway?"  
  
Aziraphale moved in closer. Close enough to reach in and brush Crowley's bangs back, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Just like you're doing now, sweetheart. It takes a certain amount of strength to be willing to try something like this in the first place. Regardless of what else happens, I'm proud of you just for that. I believe in you, Crowley. We'll keep going until we find something that works for you. We're going to get you through this."  
  
The new endearment worked well, along with the praise, to brighten him. "I believe you. If nothing else, at least that'll always be true."  
  
Perhaps it would change one day, but often, he believed in Aziraphale _way_ more than he believed in himself. It was good enough for him, really. He would be okay with it, if that never flipped over to the state that it probably_ should_ be in.  
  
The angel shifted to the side, and the first true sensation of heat hit him, signaling that the heater had finished its warm up, rattling him with the suddenness of it. It made him start and jump so severely that he actually came up out of the chair, landing toward the edge when he fell back down. The fact that it had come from behind Aziraphale did him no favors, either.  
  
Aziraphale's eyes were on him, sharp and focused again. "Love?"  
  
Crowley shook his head, settling back into the chair properly to recover from where he'd almost twitched out of it. "Nah... it's alright. Just scared me. Wasn't paying attention."  
  
He was only mildly shaken, but he could tell the angel felt guilty for distracting him. It was plain on his face as he retreated. "Ah. I'll head back over here, shall I?" He said, inching his way over to return to the spot he'd abandoned to come and comfort him.  
  
"Hey... I'm okay. Really." He glanced over, pushing himself up farther in the chair. "Don't feel bad about it, huh? Not your fault. 'Sides, I like you being attentive to me. Feels nice." He told him, stretching his arms out against the rests on the chair as he looked away again, a bit flushed from the admission. It still felt weird to him to say stuff like that outright.  
  
It pleased Aziraphale, though. "Thank you, darling."  
  
Crowley gave him an affirmative little grunt, still a bit embarrassed. He let his eyes trail back up to the heater, now blazing a quite intense orange. It made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, but otherwise, he hadn't much of a reaction to that.  
  
Aziraphale slipped back into his role as an observer, quietly keeping track of Crowley and his movements.  
  
The room was silent for a time.  
  
After a while, Crowley began to fidget as the heat blew on him. Just a twitch, here and there.  
  
He couldn't really call himself uncomfortable yet, though, so he stayed silent.  
  
That is, until he saw movement around the spot he was watching.  
  
Upon closer inspection, what he saw was a few lines of heat shimmering against the metal grate on the front of the heater, and that was shortly accompanied by a change in the temperature. It had fluctuated, _intensified,_ just slightly. One degree, maybe two.  
  
Even that small variance, just for that one fleeting moment, blowing across him in a wave, was enough to affect him, though. Enough to blast into his mind and bring back a flash of tall walls of flames.  
  
His vision went blurry, then snapped right back to its usual crispness. Like he was a camera that had momentarily lost its focus. He shook his head and gave his temple a little tap, blinking a few extra times from the whiplash of how quickly it had all happened.  
  
"Crowley?"  
  
It had been just a flicker. If he was paying any less attention, he would've missed it, but he knew well what he'd been told. This was the sign, he was sure.  
  
And it soon became clear it was a good thing that he _had_ been told, too. He felt his throat start to clench shortly thereafter. "Turn it off. _Please,_ turn it off." He choked, a slight pant in his voice as he closed his eyes and started to focus on his breathing. Aziraphale moved to do as he was asked, as quickly as he could, and hit the switch, unplugging the heater to take it to an unoccupied area of the room, far away from Crowley.  
  
_Breathe, two, three, four._  
  
Said demon's hands were clenched against his pant legs as he walked himself back from the edge. "Fuck." He gasped, eyes clenched tight. He could feel sweat rolling down his neck and over his back, sticking his shirt to him in places.  
  
It was an uncomfortable thing to feel. Too much for him. Reminded him of the incidents he'd had that had been worse than this, as it had always happened then, too. He lowered his hands, blindly groping for the bottom hem. Once he found it, he yanked upwards, ripping it over his head and letting it drop to pool on the floor next to his chair.  
  
_Breathe, two, three, four._  
  
This cycle was the one that broke the hold of the panic. He breathed deeply, tipping his head against the back of the chair as he felt the spike let go.  
  
When he was slightly more aware again, he noticed there were bumping sounds in the space all around him as Aziraphale moved through the room. Tidying, perhaps? Trying to keep himself busy, probably.  
  
But actually, he found it kind of soothing. When he finally opened his eyes to take a peek, the angel was crouched next to him, having taken special care to make sure that he would be right in the center of Crowley's cone of vision when he recovered.  
  
The idea was a sound one, as it turned out. Just the sight of him helped to alleviate the pressure, somehow. Like one of his fucked up synapses had just been able to vaguely connect to the fact that he was there and alright.  
  
Aziraphale's hand was on his face, then, thumb stroking his cheek. "Are you alright, Crowley?"  
  
He turned his head, nodding as he laid kisses over the inside of the other's palm. "Mn... gonna be. Just... gimme a while."  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him, continuing the soft motion of his thumb. "You did quite well, for it being the first time."  
  
"Really?" Only having managed to last such a short time, he couldn't help but doubt it. It felt almost pathetic. He searched Aziraphale's face for a sign that he was just trying to make him feel better.  
  
He didn't find it, though. Rather than that, he quickly got the affirmation he was aching for, instead. Aziraphale nodded emphatically. "Yes. I'm quite pleased with how it's gone. This was probably just about the best outcome. You listened to what I told you, and we moved to stop it before things got totally out of control." He said, reaching out with the other hand to pat Crowley's and then allowing his to linger on top of it. "You were so strong for me. I'm proud of you."  
  
Crowley's ears went pink. Well, maybe it turned out better than he thought.  
  
"Wuzzat for?" He slurred, eyeing the basin Aziraphale took back into his hands as he pulled away and stood up properly again.  
  
The blonde followed the path of Crowley's eyes down to the basin, then looked back up at him. "Making sure I give you some attention after you go through this is important. To me, at the very least. After putting you through these things, I'd like to help you come back down. I've told you, I always want you to feel safe and comfortable with me. That wasn't just something I meant with regard to our physical relationship. So... I was thinking I'd like to wash your hair, this time."  
  
Crowley's face bloomed color immediately, and he sat up in his seat, suddenly feeling very alert again. The reaction was a bit extreme, due to him being wound up, probably, and it caught him off guard and also made him feel slightly embarrassed. The two of them were well acquainted with intimacy by now, partially due to said physical relationship. They'd full on had sex at this point, after all, and it would be _far_ from the first non-sexual intimacy they shared together, either. Something about this idea in particular had hooked him, though.  
  
"That _is_ alright, isn't it?"  
  
"I. Er. Ngk."  
  
Aziraphale _looked_ just as amused as he _was,_ over Crowley's loss for words. He very much enjoyed Crowley's continued reactions to his advances and offers of activities to bond them. It had definitely worked as a method of helping to bring him back to ground. "You know, I don't think I've ever said, but I do find you to be oh-so adorable when you're flustered, my sweet serpent."  
  
The color wasn't going to recede any time soon, with the angel talking like that. "Oh, fuck off." He whined, raising his hand to swat at him lightly.  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "I'm only teasing, darling. But there's truth to be found in those words, too."  
  
His hand ran through Crowley's hair, just once, ruffling it up. "If you don't want me to do that, I won't." The tried and true statement came out, as it was wont to do in a situation like this. It had only been meant to offer him something calming to help ease him down after the round of exposure therapy, so, more than ever, he wanted it to be something that Crowley actually wanted of his own accord if he was going to do it. "I could do something else instead."  
  
Crowley couldn't help the curiosity. "Like?"  
  
"Would you allow me to touch you a little?"  
  
The demon blinked. It wasn't the answer he'd expected. "Uh... sure."  
  
Aziraphale set the basin aside in favor of moving up behind Crowley, placing his hands on his bare shoulders to slowly squeeze the muscles and rub circles into the blades with his thumbs. Initially, he jumped, but he relaxed pretty soon after, successfully fighting back the wave of anxiety that accompanied the memory of the last time Aziraphale had touched him like this. It was okay, now.  
  
It had been okay _then,_ too. He just hadn't known it yet. Hadn't allowed himself the time to even think so.  
  
He couldn't contain a tiny murmur of appreciation as the tension was worked out of him... tension that he hadn't even realized that he'd still been holding in his body before that moment.  
  
He was almost set into a trance by the steady motion of the angel's hands, allowing the sensation to move through him completely. He let himself be rocked, somewhat, with each fluid movement.  
  
Aziraphale's hands began to wander just a bit, deviating from their initial path, but they never dipped much lower than Crowley's collarbone. He touched, but he stayed respectful and chaste as possible about it. This wasn't about riling Crowley up, this was about relaxing him. He knew a bit better about what to do and what not to do in order to achieve that at this point, versus last time.  
  
And it was working. This little massage was having the same effect on him as the last one, minus the whole... awkward boner thing.  
  
He was sagging in the chair, damn near full on falling asleep at points. Occasionally, Aziraphale would let his hands ghost up into the soft dip at the base of Crowley's skull, and that would bring him back to life, if just slightly.  
  
Unaware of how much time had passed before he did, but not really caring, either, he was lazily putting his hands over Aziraphale's, holding them still against his chest, and craning his neck, seeking a kiss.  
  
Aziraphale leaned over him and turned his head enough to grant it, also gracing him with a little chuckle when a hand worked its way up to find purchase at the back of his blonde head.  
  
It didn't build up to any sort of frenzy. There was no hunger in it this time, although it still managed to be passionate. Sometimes it still amazed each of them in his own turn that they could share something like this now.  
  
Crowley moved his head back, very minimally, and Aziraphale squashed down the impulse to chase him. The tone of the moment was light and romantic, and he didn't want that to change. It felt too nice.  
  
"You can... wash my hair now, if you like. If you still want to." He breathed, lips brushing against the angel's as he spoke. He moved back more, slowly allowing his hand to slide out of Aziraphale's own hair to let him go.  
  
"I do. If that's agreeable to you, of course." The angel hummed, lingering at Crowley's side for a moment to receive his nod before moving to retrieve the discarded basin. He then seemed to consider it, and there was a snap.  
  
Miraculously, all of a sudden, he was looking at a hair washing sink standing in front of him instead, and the chair that Crowley was sitting in had become the seat attached to it.  
  
All at once, their front room had been transformed into about half a salon, and Crowley couldn't help laughing at the absurdity of the whole thing.  
  
And there, he realized, was that concept coming up again: It was _their_ front room. It wasn't just _his_ anymore, it was _theirs._ It made him feel warm, in the pleasant way. Like there was a soft light radiating from within him.  
  
"My goodness. What _are_ you thinking about?"  
  
He looked up to find Aziraphale staring at him. "Huh?"  
  
"The look on your face is just marvelous, darling."  
  
"Ngk." Heat flooded his cheeks. He hadn't realized _that_ had been bleeding out into his expression. "I, er... you." Aziraphale's eyebrows shot up, and it was all Crowley could do to keep meeting his eyes. "I was thinking about you. And, uh... us."  
  
"And it was a pleasant thought, _clearly."_ The degree to which Aziraphale's face softened was a sight to behold, and Crowley felt grateful that he was able to bear witness to it. "I love you so much, you unbelievable charmer."  
  
"I love you, too. But aren't _you_ the charmer? 'M a snake." He grinned.  
  
The joke, despite its over the top nature, or perhaps because of it, made Aziraphale laugh as he raised his hand to snap again. "Oh, hush."  
  
The soft weight of a freshly miracled towel appeared on Crowley's chest, and he directed his gaze down to look at it.  
  
"Tip your head back and close your eyes for me, sweetest."  
  
Crowley followed the instructions without a thought, placing his head into the divot in the edge of the sink and humming pleasantly as Aziraphale's hands came down to cradle it.  
  
It was honestly sort of amazing how calm he felt. Calm, any true level of calm, was a state that Crowley found himself in... well, _very_ fucking rarely. It had been that way even before things had taken a turn for the worse.  
  
But he didn't flinch when he heard the water start to splash into the sink behind his head. Not even when he felt Aziraphale's hand press against the top of his forehead, shielding his eyes as the other hand scooped the hose up to guide the spray over his hair.  
  
Again, water didn't bother him, in particular. But he also knew that, instinctively, he _should_ be a bit peaked right now, and it was remarkable that he wasn't. At the essential level, when the situation was pared down all the way... this was water, and this was an angel. The connotations of Holy Water present in this scene should have been raising an alarm in his very DNA.  
  
It shouldn't have mattered who it was.  
  
It especially shouldn't have mattered, with respect to the fact that he was a demon with a _panic disorder._  
  
But the truly amazing part was, it _did._ It _did_ matter. He wasn't in the least bit disturbed, not even at that subconscious level.  
  
The 'who' was debatably the most important part of it, actually. When one examined the intricacies of the situation, this wasn't just _any_ angel, this was _Aziraphale,_ and Aziraphale was nervous about a lot of things, too. Particularly when it came to Crowley, and **_especially_** when it came to Crowley and Holy Water.  
  
The ingrained knowledge of that had even tempered Crowley's _instincts,_ at this point.  
  
That level of trust was almost outrageous, and more than a bit unheard of, let alone between an angel and a demon. It was free and complete, and even that was putting it gently. There weren't proper words to describe it, honestly.  
  
It simply _was._  
  
But then... the fact that they were an angel and a demon hadn't _really_ mattered for a very long time, had it? There had been a lot of posturing built up around that fact, and emphasis placed on it, when one frightened party was using it to defend himself against the other, but when things were boiled down?  
  
No, at this point it had become abundantly clear: they were simply two halves of the same soul. Any other qualifiers didn't matter.  
  
Then Aziraphale dared to scrape a couple of nails against his scalp, out of nowhere, and suddenly _that_ became the only thing that mattered, sentimentality aside. "Oh fuck, keep doing that." He told him, digging his heels against the floor to push his body up and by extension press his head more firmly against those fingers.  
  
Aziraphale did what was asked of him, in essence continuing his massage, only on the demon's scalp, now. "You like this, hm?" He asked, letting his nails scratch again for emphasis. He continued to do so every once in a while to keep him enticed, and drank in the little murmurs of pleasure as they rolled out of him.  
  
_"Yes._ Fuck." Crowley groaned lowly, totally caught up in the ridiculous waves of tingles crashing onto the top of his head, following the path of those mischievous hands. "You have no idea."  
  
Admittedly, before Aziraphale had come to live here with him, he'd been quite touch starved. It wasn't like the two of them had been _totally_ hands off, in the past, but they also hadn't made specific moves to touch each other before recently. Not for a long time, anyway. As human society became disinclined toward casual touch, so had they, in keeping with that fact.  
  
All of that just helped to contribute to the fact that the angel playing with his hair had become one of Crowley's favorite little habits of his, in the time since. But he usually did it absentmindedly, so for him to be concentrating _specifically_ on doing that right now? It was bliss for Crowley.  
  
There was a pause, and he almost complained, but then he heard a clicking sound behind him, the faint smell of coconut hit his nose, and he realized what was happening. Aziraphale had poured a generous amount of shampoo into his palms, and was manipulating the gel between them until it reached a state that met his satisfaction. His hands were soon back in Crowley's hair, working the rich lather through it.  
  
He scrubbed the hair against itself, taking his time to have his fill of feeling the texture of it against his own skin, then pushed his fingers all the way back down to Crowley's scalp, letting the strands slip through and making sure each one got its proper attention, before turning his attention to the shorter hair at the sides of the demon's head.

He kept the place slow and lingering, making sure to slide down to the soft spots behind Crowley's ears and let his fingers drag heavily across the skin there a couple of times, too.  
  
The tips of his fingers massaged lightly at Crowley's temple, carrying little drips of water and just a slight amount of the cleansing agent through the thinner sections of hair near there. He then repeated the motion on the other side.  
  
When his nails scratched again during the process, he'd walked it back just a bit from the time before, sensing the potential for Crowley to get a little too excited if he used too much pressure. The demon didn't seem to notice the retreat, though.  
  
Once he was sure he'd gotten through to every bit of the hair, he picked up the hose again, directing the spray into it to rinse away the soap. He held the spray head close to Crowley, pleased with the little murmurs he was making at the feeling of the jets of water against his scalp.  
  
He worked over Crowley's hair with his other hand, parting and guiding the spray through every inch of it, thoroughly making sure that all of the shampoo was rinsed out.  
  
By the time the water stopped again, the demon was completely boneless from his ministrations. A well timed series of presses of Aziraphale's thumbs to properly massage that dip at the back of Crowley's head had caused his shoulders to finally fall totally limp.  
  
It was quite amusing to see him the way he was now, practically melted against the back of the chair, which had been returned to its original form. He looked pliant in a way Aziraphale had never seen him before.  
  
He made sure to make a mental note of it.  
  
The towel was peeled up to be placed on Crowley's head, and Aziraphale urged him into a sitting position. His hands were soon in his hair again, on the other side of the cloth, combing and scrunching through it as he rubbed it dry.  
  
Crowley sighed fondly. _So_ fondly it almost ached his chest, hearing that sound again. Thinking about how many times he'd made that very same sound, how many times it had carried this very specific timbre, during those 6000 years of pining after Aziraphale. "Feels good." He said, reaching behind him to hook his arm around his angel and bring him in close, pressing him to the back of the chair and closing his eyes as he rested his head against the softness of him.  
  
The motion of those hands stopped, and he leaned over just enough to look Crowley in the face. "And how are _you_ feeling... alright?"  
  
The serpentine eyes opened once more, fond as the aforementioned sigh as he looked up at Aziraphale, taking in the manner in which the light in the room was shining from above them on the ceiling, outlining him with its beam and making him look a particular way that Crowley didn't think he'd seen him since... well, The Beginning, probably.  
  
He was beautiful. Divine, though it made Crowley internally snort to think so at the moment, knowing how on the nose it was. "Yeah, I'm... I'm okay."  
  
And he _was, **right now.**_ He was _so_ okay right now. But he wasn't, _really,_ and he knew that well enough. If he hadn't already, what had happened earlier would've showed him. It was probably a good thing, knowing where things stood. He didn't want to get too far ahead of himself, after all.  
  
Though... he did just about half believe in the possibility, now. Of being okay.  
  
That was a nice start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I'd intended for the balance of this chapter to be skewed more toward the exposure therapy scene itself than the aftermath, but I suppose the impulse toward some soft content took me. It be like that sometimes when you have two idiots that are this in love and a writer like me who enjoys being entirely too self indulgent and apparently *really* wanted to write a hair washing scene lmfao


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale would've just been able to move on, attend to his afternoon reading as planned, if not for one thing: Crowley had his sleeves rolled up to just under his elbow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello pals. Please take this humble offering of shameless porn + a dash of top tier bantz to start your week off right :P

It was a quiet afternoon, just business as usual... except Crowley was cooking dinner.  
  
Or, well, to be more precise, he was _preparing_ their dinner to be cooked at the moment. He was minding his own business, getting his ingredients ready to put into the slow cooker. Cutting, measuring, combining.  
  
And Aziraphale would've just been able to move on, attend to his afternoon reading as planned, if not for one thing: Crowley had his sleeves rolled up to just under his elbow.  
  
The sight of that caught him around the neck like a Vaudeville hook, on his way past the kitchen, and dragged him right back.  
  
_Something_ about Crowley's forearms being on display like that made Aziraphale want to ravish him. He found it _painfully_ attractive. For what reason, or if there even was a reason for such a thing, he wasn't sure. He really couldn't say he'd had something like this happen before, after all. His Effort was still fairly fresh on.  
  
But dear Lord in Heaven, _whatever_ it was, it was happening _now._ He watched him with an altogether different kind of hunger flowing through him than what he was used to. If he had been completely with it, he might've wondered why Crowley didn't notice.  
  
The reason for that was stupifyingly simple, in the end. He just wasn't paying attention. He was too absorbed into what he was doing to realize that there was a cloud of Lust building behind him.  
  
Aziraphale waited, quite dutifully, watching Crowley from behind for as long as he could stand. Watched the muscles in his arms flex as he moved about the kitchen like it was his own domain. The small part of Aziraphale's brain that wasn't all wrapped up in desire found that to be horribly endearing, which almost made it all that much worse, actually. He caught himself biting his bottom lip more than a couple of times.

The demon had mostly finished his task by the time the blonde actually approached him. "Crowley?" He called, gradually moving closer.  
  
"Yeah?" He responded, absentmindedly, picking up the chopping board and using the back side of his knife to scrape the onions he'd just finished cutting into the slow cooker that he'd now placed on the countertop beside him, then giving the contents a stir.  
  
"I think I might like to have a little snack, if that's agreeable to you, darling." Aziraphale's voice was quite near to his ear, now. He was as close as he dared to get without asking Crowley's permission to touch him.  
  
The close proximity and the words themselves worked in tandem to bring Crowley's attention forward, and he jumped, eyes setting themselves to scanning around the room while he scrambled to come up with an idea for something quick he could whip up in the meantime.   
  
He hadn't considered this, somehow... although he probably should have, considering how much time it took for a slow cooker meal to get finished. "I can--" He started to say something, but then lost it when he turned and caught sight of the look in Aziraphale's eyes, so close to him. His pupils were blown quite wide. He stared blankly into them and realization dawned on his face as his mind caught up.   
  
_Oh._ Oh, no. He didn't mean _more food._ He meant... _that._  
  
Crowley _was_ the food.  
  
The pause lingered in the space between them. Aziraphale looked thoughtful as he searched Crowley's eyes. "Or perhaps you'd prefer not to?"  
  
"No!" One of Crowley's hands clapped over his mouth. There had been nothing but pure desperation in that abrupt answer, and he was slightly mortified at how it had sounded. His mouth had shot off before he had a chance to think about what to say. He sighed, steadying himself, then dropped his hand again. "I mean... no. _Shit._ I just... I didn't catch it at first." He admitted, turning back to his work briefly in attempt to hide his embarrassment.   
  
It was, after all, the first time Aziraphale had tried to initiate the proceedings of anything himself. He hadn't expected it. The tips of Crowley's ears were pink, and it made Aziraphale smile behind him. "What, uh... what did you have in mind?"  
  
"I hadn't really thought that far ahead yet." A hand placed itself loosely on one of Crowley's exposed arms, but didn't move at first. A questioning glance was thrown each way, both slightly different in tone, but somehow the intent was communicated and Crowley nodded his head slightly.  
  
Aziraphale then began to stroke over every inch of the demon's arm, in slow, sweeping motions. The attention made the hairs there stand up, and equal waves of tingles and heat rise into his face. "What's gotten into you, huh?"  
  
"Hm... you, I think."  
  
Crowley's embarrassment, built upon a continually growing pile of reasons, made him look rather like a cartoon character in the same predicament, with how red his face had become. "Uh..." He grasped for something to respond with and failed.  
  
"Yes, it's definitely you. You look so dashing right now, I just can't help myself." He paused, unmoving as he looked at Crowley again. "Unless you'd really rather I did."  
  
"No... no, I like it." He admitted, returning to his work, which admittedly required a significant amount of concentration now. "You _would_ be interested in somebody that knows their way around a kitchen, wouldn't you."  
  
Aziraphale's breath washed across the back of his neck as he huffed a laugh. "Oh, of course. It's not like I only have eyes for you, or something. This skill certainly helps your case, dearest." He teased him, leaning up to press a kiss to the crown of his head where his hair parted.  
  
The demon snorted, clearly amused by the playful jab. "Well... it better. Learned it for you."  
  
"You... wait, what?"  
  
Crowley rolled his eyes, looking over his shoulder at Aziraphale. "C'mon, Angel. Think about it. 'S not like I eat."  
  
The connection of those points made his heart flutter. "Oh, you are just too much."  
  
"I wanted to make you happy, that's all."  
  
"You're _very_ good at it, dearest."  
  
Crowley turned back 'round, letting the red that was now creeping into his neck do the talking for him. He finally finished what he was doing, sprinkling a bit of salt on the top of the food and giving it one last stir before fully turning to face Aziraphale. "Seems like we _do_ have a while... so... let's go to bed, yeah?"  
  
"Agreed." Before Crowley had a chance to say anything more, he found himself being swept up into Aziraphale's arms. The angel carried him effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing, and it made him flush and bury his face into the side of his neck. At times he'd forget how physically strong Aziraphale was, since he seemed to vastly prefer a gentle approach to life.  
  
Before he knew it, he was being placed lightly into the bed, with Aziraphale swiftly following.  
  
Aziraphale leaned down then, taking Crowley's hands in his and pinning him against the bed with his bulk in that delicious way that brought him right back to the memory of last time and set anticipation flooding his entire body.   
  
When he rolled his hips against Crowley, that anticipation only doubled, somehow.  
  
Crowley murmured against his shoulder, after only a scant few of those rolls, and all he caught was "...in me."  
  
That had been enough to suss out the meaning, but he still wanted to hear him say it. "What was that, dear?"  
  
"I said..." He trailed off, embarrassed and cheeks blazing, temporarily unsure if he had the courage to repeat himself. But then he shook his head against the other and moved back just enough that his voice could be heard normally. He could do this. "I said I want you in me."  
  
"Oh, you _do?"_ Aziraphale was proud of him. Couldn't help being. He was getting a lot better at asking for what he wanted, in general, but it was especially profound to watch his growth in this context, given where he'd started. He still had little stumbles, but he was steadily coming 'round to the fact that he didn't have to keep things bottled up anymore.  
  
The demon nodded his head quite firmly. "Yeah. Yeah... I do."  
  
Aziraphale grinned against him in response. "Hm. You know, I think that can be arranged."  
  
He leaned back, his gaze following the lines of the tendons in one of Crowley's pinned arms, straining under his skin. He wondered again, was it strange, to have a fixation like this?  
  
Would Crowley be okay with indulging him a bit? Probably, even if it was.  
  
But, in the end, he supposed there was no way to ask... other than to just ask. "Crowley. Do you mind... leaving your shirt on?"  
  
Crowley gave him an odd look. He couldn't blame him. It was an off the wall request, all things considered. "Uh... yeah, I guess."  
  
"Perfect."  
  
A snap pierced the still air in the room. This time it was Aziraphale that undressed them.  
  
When Crowley peeked down, both of them still had their shirts on, but nothing else. Well, Aziraphale was still wearing his socks, and those damn ridiculous yet somehow stupidly cute sock garters of his, holding said articles up. But other than _that._  
  
Somehow, seeing the angel over him while he was like this: not fully clothed, but about half undone, was more attractive in some ways than seeing him naked.  
  
He did wonder about his own state, though. "What's all this about, anyway? Why'd you ask me that?"  
  
Aziraphale seemed surprised that he'd actually asked the question. "I..." He fidgeted in his spot, nervously fussing over it. "You have to promise not to laugh at me if I tell you. I'm not sure whether or not it's odd."  
  
If Crowley wasn't hooked in before, he definitely was now. "Try me."  
  
"I saw you, in the kitchen... the way you were, with these pushed up..." He swept his hands over Crowley's arms again, fingertips brushing the bunched up fabric of his sleeve. "I'm not sure what came over me. All I could think about after that was how I had to have you."  
  
It took a moment for Crowley to reboot his mind after he learned the truth of it. _"Fuck._ No, that's not odd. Holy fucking shit." He was breathless as he stared at Aziraphale. "Y'know, the Almighty played a nasty trick when she made an angel like you."  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
Crowley's head dropped back to the pillow and he released a huff of breath that carried a light groan out of him along with it. "You're way too hot. Some of the shit you say is just... _fuck."_  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him, and his cheeks tinted pink. "Oh, hush. I could say the same of you, you know."  
  
Crowley just looked at him. "Y'already did. Just basically told me 'I saw your arms and popped a boner'."  
  
"Oh, I see." He looked thoughtful again, as he responded, eyes flicking up to catch Crowley's. "And does that bother you?"  
  
"Fuck no, it doesn't_ bother me._ Opposite feeling, actually." He moved his hand up briefly to brush his fingertips down Aziraphale's cheek. "Makes me feel wanted."  
  
"Good."  
  
A trail of kisses was laid down the sharp plane of Crowley's jaw.  
  
"Not to change the subject, but I've been meaning to tell you. I learned something quite funny, recently. Did you know... that humans call this part the Adam's apple?" Aziraphale laughed, snapping his teeth playfully at the bump in the center of Crowley's throat.  
  
It made him shiver and squirm a little. "'S like they can't read or something."  
  
Aziraphale's thumb replaced his teeth, tracing over the indicated spot with a soft touch. "Yes, well... they'd know better if they were there, wouldn't they?"  
  
Crowley couldn't help but snort dismissively. "Modern humans? _Please._ They'd be too busy getting offended Adam and Eve were naked. And it'd totally blow their goddamn minds to see an angel and a demon doing anything less than trying to tear each other apart."  
  
"I find that's certainly a curious choice of words, considering that I want to do little more than take you apart right now, my love." Aziraphale said, lowly, beginning to shift and move his body closer.  
  
"Ngk." Crowley choked, putting up a hand to place it lightly on Aziraphale's chest and stop him. He'd had an idea. "Wait. Let's... try it like this. Y'might like it better." He said, moving to turn over and settle himself with his hips angled up and body arched in what he hoped was an enticing position. His arms were splayed out in front of him.  
  
He couldn't have realized precisely _how_ enticing it was, though. Even despite the fact that he was _definitely_ doing it on purpose now.  
  
Aziraphale's eyes trailed over those exposed arms, stretched out against the mattress, and he felt a shiver go through him.  
  
"You gonna stare at me all day?" Crowley teased, bringing his hands together to knit his fingers while he waited and watching Aziraphale flare to life as the muscles in his arms flexed. "Get over here." He purred, watching his angel with a hot gaze from over his shoulder as he snapped his fingers to miracle himself open. "Want you."  
  
Normally, Aziraphale might've had a jab ready about taking his time to savor the moment, but he found that he was feeling rather impatient and rapidly losing ground against Crowley's blatant efforts to wear him down. "As you wish, you gorgeous creature." He replied, hovering over Crowley. He'd retained just enough patience to take a short moment to run his hands over the other's lean torso on his way to stop on his hips, moving in close and repositioning himself to kneel between Crowley's legs.  
  
"Tell me if you need to stop." He said, echoing what he'd said the first time and sending a pulse of adoration radiating out from Crowley's heart with his care as he pulled him backwards and moved forward at the same time, breaching him just as gently as he had last time.  
  
The demon's back arched prettily in front of him as he was entered properly. _"Ah,_ fuck... I love you, Angel." At first there had been a hiss in his voice, but he'd controlled it again by the time he'd reached the pet name.  
  
Aziraphale leaned over him, bottoming out and pressing kisses against every bit of skin he could reach. Over his shoulder blades, down into the center of his back between them. "And I you, my unbearably beautiful love." He sighed, pleased, as he felt Crowley melt under him. He was soon starting up that familiar pace again: Slow, deep, tender. It drove Crowley absolutely mad, just as much as it had the first time, and though it was still early days as far as all that went, he doubted if that would ever change.   
  
The angel relished the feeling he got from the heated vice grip of muscle around his cock, positively savoring the way Crowley's body clenched around him, seemingly eager for more already. He'd opened himself up just enough, again. They fit together like a glove.  
  
"Is it..." He started to ask _something,_ but it quickly became clear there was no need for whatever that had been. He immediately lost track of it when Crowley pushed back against him.  
  
"'S good." The demon groaned, fingers twisting in the sheets.  
  
Aziraphale then leaned forward to get a bit more leverage, pressing his chest flush against Crowley's back, and kissed the nape of his neck, to see how he'd take to that.  
  
Very well, as it turned out.  
  
The feeling of Aziraphale's puffs of breath washing over him from the back went straight to his dick, and it made him arch again. "Oh, shit... stay like that. Please." He panted, turning his head to try and give Aziraphale access to his neck.  
  
It didn't work quite as intended, due to the angle they were at, and the height difference, but the angel still gave him a few kisses and tiny nibbles against what little of it he could reach, for his trouble. "Crowley..."  
  
The sudden utterance of his name, especially so close to his ear, gave him a full body shiver, and he shifted his legs wider so he had a sturdier base to push back against the other again. "Holy fuck, Angel." He breathed out, digging his fingers even deeper into the bed. He felt so good right now it was almost unbelievable.  
  
"I suppose that is an accurate assessment, darling. That's precisely what I'm giving you, right now." Aziraphale laughed, breathlessly, adjusting his grip on the demon's hips so he could change the angle of his thrusts slightly.  
  
"Oh, shut the fuck up. Don't ruin it." Crowley groaned, although both of them knew his complaint wasn't as serious as he'd tried to make it seem. He secretly loved it when Aziraphale said things like that, he just refused to admit it.  
  
"Mm... you're right." The blonde sighed out, smiling against Crowley. "It'd be a much better use of my time to tell you how _lovely_ you are."   
  
_"Fuck."_ Crowley groaned again, but this time it had a much more positive tone threaded through it. Aziraphale had him twitching again with just the ghost of a hint of praise.  
  
He was fucking _whipped,_ no two ways about it.  
  
Aziraphale hit him in _that_ spot, and there was almost a harmony wrapped up in both of their moans. The otherwise silent room was only filled with the slow sound of skin lightly smacking against skin.  
  
Crowley could feel his entire body steadily coiling up in anticipation for his orgasm.  
  
It was far too soon for it to be over, though. He didn't want to stop feeling this yet. He wanted to keep Aziraphale all around him for as long as possible.  
  
Things could, of course, keep going after the first one, and he knew that well enough. Not that he'd _done that_ before, but... he understood enough about how it worked to know that could be a thing. He also knew well that he'd get way too wrapped up in it and inevitably their dinner would be ruined. Now that he'd thought of it, though, perhaps he'd try to see to it that they made a run for that at some point in the future. He was curious how that would go.  
  
But for right now...  
  
"Stop, stop, stop." He panted, infinitely grateful that Aziraphale was so attentive and such a good listener. He'd followed the command immediately. It bought him just enough time to slide his hand between himself and the bed to quickly and firmly squeeze his cock before he blew his load. He shuddered deeply at the feeling of being snatched back from the very edge. Another second, just _one more_ push of the angel's hips, and he probably would've been too late.  
  
Of course, as it naturally would be, Aziraphale's first reaction was one of concern. "What's wrong, love?"  
  
At first, Crowley's only response was a quite undignified, strangled sound. "Agh..." He gasped for breath, but not in that unpleasant way he did when he was panicked. No, this was him when he was flipped toward the opposite end of that gauge entirely. It was really a wonder he could feel so relaxed with his toes dangling over the cliff face of an orgasm.  
  
Aziraphale made him feel a lot of things he'd never really understand, though.  
  
"Hah... _fuck."_ He groaned, burying his face into the pillow as he tried to calm down and keep his hips still, needing to use a considerable amount of his willpower to resist the urge to rut against the bed. His voice was a bit muffled when he answered, as a result. "N... Nothing's _wrong._ Shit, it's _so far_ from wrong. I just... I didn't... want to come yet."  
  
Aziraphale's head tilted as he took in the information.   
  
He hadn't known it was even _possible_ to stop it, first of all. And second of all... Crowley had _wanted_ to stop it? "Why?"  
  
"Because... because I don't... want it to be done with. Not yet."  
  
It was true that the proceedings usually came to a pretty swift end once Crowley reached that point. Seeing him, and in the one case, _feeling_ him come undone like that dragged Aziraphale right over the edge with him if he hadn't gotten there already.  
  
Logically, he could see how desperation to chase the highs it would bring could make things hectic. That was probably how it ended up for a lot of humans, if he had to guess. But of course, as he had a habit of doing, Crowley marched to the beat of his own drum. The fact that he wanted to spend more time like this, that he was purposely taking steps to do so, warmed Aziraphale's heart.  
  
"Hey... Angel? Y'mind backing off for a minute? I... wanna roll over."  
  
Aziraphale pulled back, pressing a quick kiss to Crowley's bare shoulder on his way to withdraw from him to sit on his knees. "I wasn't going to say anything, but... I think I do prefer you on your back. I like being able to see you."  
  
Crowley gave him a look, once he'd finished flipping over and adjusting himself properly, placing that trusty pillow underneath him like he had the last time. "You should've said something. 'S not all about me, y'know. Don't make me raise that stink again." He huffed, beckoning Aziraphale forward and watching as he took his place again, slotted between Crowley's legs. "I wanna know what _you_ want, too."  
  
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. I like it well enough. I just think I prefer it when your mouth is in reach." The angel chuckled, emphasizing his words by leaning in to take Crowley's lips, finding them already parted and seeking by the time he reached him. As if he'd been waiting, as if it was something inevitable. It wouldn't have been an inaccurate assessment. Now that he could do so at his leisure, Aziraphale found that kissing Crowley was probably as close to an addiction as he'd ever get. Even his love of food didn't compare.  
  
It was almost stupid, how full and soft his lips always felt, despite being so thin. How intoxicating just that simple exploration of flesh could be.  
  
But well... in the end, if you broke it down, that's what _all of this_ was, wasn't it?  
  
Feeling the demon shiver as he bottomed out inside of him again made him smile against him, and he moved his head back just enough to speak, letting his lips brush over Crowley's as his mouth moved with the words. "Mm... and besides... I think this _is_ sort of about what I want, isn't it? _I_ approached_ you."_  
  
"'S nice... that you did. Didn't expect it, but I like it." Crowley sighed, letting his fingers trail up the side of Aziraphale's neck and into the short hairs at the back of his head. "Don't be scared to do it. I wanna know if you want me like this. If I'm not in the mood, I'll tell you. Promise."  
  
It was an easy promise to make. Telling Aziraphale about his feelings was getting easier as time went on. That, and he held him in a high enough regard not to lie to him about it.   
  
"Quite right, too. I prize your comfort above all else, beloved." It likely didn't need saying, at this point, but in Crowley's case, reminders never hurt. "Back to it, then?"  
  
Crowley rolled his shoulders against the bed, soaking up the feeling that the endearment had given him. He always got like this when Aziraphale went beyond his usual 'loves' and 'darlings'. "Mn... yeah. You've got me. 'M ready."  
  
Aziraphale was pleased as he watched this display, noting the fact that the hairs on Crowley's arms had raised again, as well. It was a long established fact by now, how well his demon responded to praise, and for his part he very much appreciated having a tool in his belt that he could use so readily, as it came so naturally to him. He genuinely meant it each and every time.  
  
All things considered, it didn't take long for Crowley to get amped back up. That short break might've actually run totally opposite to what he wanted, because it only made everything feel so much better and made him so much more sensitive to each little movement Aziraphale made.  
  
This was just the latest in the line of things that hadn't gone to plan, but when it was an encounter this hastily entered into, it was probably par for the course. And besides that, he was quickly becoming so delirious with pleasure he couldn't even muster up a complaint. His eyes fell almost all the way shut, and what little of the scene he could still see was horribly unfocused as Aziraphale rocked him against the bed.  
  
He wasn't sure how much time it took to get to that point, but the angel was nudging him, suddenly. His thrusts had slowed down, but were still just as deep, if not more so, however the fuck that was possible.  
  
"Look at me, Crowley. Can you?" Aziraphale asked, softly. Crowley whimpered as he tried in vain to make his eyes open beyond the slits they had been reduced to. Tears were pooling at their corners. The intense pleasure he was feeling as this wave began to form for the second time was almost too much.   
  
"Look at me, my love. Please?" Aziraphale repeated. "I want to see your eyes."  
  
Crowley finally managed to wrench his eyes open just over halfway, a choked sound that was quite like a sob escaping him. The gaze of blue that was turned on him was filled with so much adoration that it had his heart clenching painfully in his chest. He felt like he really wouldn't get used to being looked at like that, but he never wanted to, either.   
  
Aziraphale leaned forward and pressed a sweet kiss to Crowley's lips, before, feeling bold, moving his mouth to the demon's ear and purring lowly into it. "I want you to come for me, my gorgeous boy, and I want you to look at me when you do... that's alright, right? You can do that?"  
  
This was the first thing he had really asked Crowley for, directly, and with the way that voice sounded, _those words_ pouring into his ear, he was almost surprised he didn't come right then and there. "Oh, fuck... _yes."_  
  
"Mm. You're _so good,_ Crowley. Always." He raised a hand, brushing the pad of his thumb over Crowley's lips and chuckling as his eyes fluttered. "Keep your eyes open now, sweetest. Don't forget."  
  
"Didn't." The demon grumbled, stubbornly pushing his eyelids back apart. "Gimme your hands. Please?"  
  
That special, impossibly soft smile graced Aziraphale's features. "Of course, love." He hummed, moving his hands to pull Crowley's into them, threading his fingers through the demon's.  
  
The only warning he really got before Crowley came this time was a slight tightening of those long fingers. The instant he felt that, his eyes were hot and sharp on the yellow ones that were staring straight at him, and he saw the moment that his serpent broke. He did so with a choked moan, eyes wide, squeezing Aziraphale's hands tightly as he could without hurting him as he spilled between them. "Ha..." He sighed, deep and satisfied, and that, on top of everything else, was all that was needed to kick Aziraphale over that cliff too. His hips rolled another couple of times, and then he stilled, fully seated inside Crowley as he took his own release, filling him with hot seed and then unceremoniously slumping against him to get his breath back.  
  
Crowley was absolutely ruined, now, and Aziraphale did all he could to get himself together so he could properly soak in that dazed, release soft look in his eyes. He gently took one of his hands away from Crowley's, stroking through the copper hair and watching the fringe fall against his forehead, then repeating the motion over again. "You really are just the_ prettiest_ thing I will ever lay eyes on, dearheart. So lovely."  
  
Crowley shuddered so hard he felt it all the way down to his toes. He was coming back to himself now, in increments. _"Ugh,_ Angel... we don't have time for another go. If you don't shut up, I'm gonna need one. It'll be a real problem."  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "Well, there's always later."  
  
Crowley regarded him with mock surprise. "Well, shit. The rumors are true! You really _are_ the _greediest_ creature to walk this Earth. I let you have your dessert before dinner and you're still thinking about having more after! You've been good though, so I might just have to let you."  
  
Aziraphale countered him with his own teasing gratitude. "Oh my! How very gracious of you."  
  
But Crowley kept the banter train right on rolling. "I know, right? You can absolutely never say I don't spoil you."  
  
Aziraphale was the one that finally cracked, giving a good laugh in response. "Oh, I would never so much as attempt it, darling. You treat me so well. Truly." He smiled, lifting Crowley's hand to his lips to press a kiss to each of the tendons in turn. "You can be sure I will still relish every single crumb of your meal, along my path to more dessert."  
  
And, of course, he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed this lil' morsel in which Aziraphale is thirsty(!) for The Rolled Up Sleeves™. Must be those old Victorian era sensibilities of his kicking in. Showing skin like that is so *scandalous* and unheard of! Either that or the fact that I've seen a behind the scenes [photo](https://66.media.tumblr.com/7ba07f75f4cdb6270f58d5f97ce28ce2/tumblr_pxxpj9b59I1watnymo2_1280.png) of Crowley in just such a state and suddenly decided my Aziraphale would definitely have a thing for it :P
> 
> Just a quick note, we probably won't have a chapter next week, as I'm going to be away in Atlanta for AWA from this Thursday to next Monday. I don't really see me being able to squeeze out a whole chapter in the next couple of days before I leave so please be pleasantly surprised if one appears next week 😂
> 
> I'll more than likely be posting a few times about the trip on my [tumblr](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/) if anybody is interested in what I'm getting up to while I'm away! Most of it will probably be totally unrelated BUT I *am* taking my 75% finished Crowley cosplay (I've been calling it Yelling at Plants!Crowley since I have no jacket or vest yet so it's sort of like him from the plants scene + his glasses added bc I currently can't wear contacts lmfao) with me so there's that!


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale looked down at the book, then back to Crowley as he leaned against the edge of the desk, staying so close to him that their legs were touching. "Ah, yes. It's a book about relaxation and mindfulness techniques. I found it while tidying the shelves today and thought perhaps we could have a go at learning some more of those sometime soon. Give you more tools to put in your belt. I've been very pleased with how well you've taken to the box breathing." 
> 
> "I... yeah, I think I'd like that." Crowley replied, watching and giving a silent nod as Aziraphale's hand came to rest innocently on his knee, creating another point of contact between them. "It helps. Think it's saved my arse a time or two. More of that can't be bad."

"Crowley? I'm home." The call came from the front door, much earlier than expected. It was just after lunch time, and normally he didn't come back til it was just about time for dinner. He'd only been out for a few hours today.  
  
The demon had settled himself in his office, crumpled in his throne with his feet up on the desk as he mindlessly watched some random tv drama play out on the screen in the corner. He'd perked up a bit at the sound of Aziraphale's voice, though. "In here, Angel." He answered, but made no move to rise just yet. He was comfortable.  
  
Soon enough, his angel appeared in the doorway, lingering there to lean against the frame and watch Crowley from a distance. "You've found some time to relax, I see."   
  
Crowley's eyes flicked over, and each of them had their own little smile at the sight of the other one. "Yeah. Been a calm one."  
  
"I'm glad to hear it." The blonde hummed, entering the room properly and crossing it, placing down the book he'd held in his hands to lean down and press a short kiss to Crowley's lips, holding him by the chin to keep him still. He let the tips of his fingers drag softly against the demon's skin as he stood up straight again.  
  
"Brought another book home?" This, in itself, wasn't unusual. Not in the slightest. It was actually sort of funny to watch the transformation of the living space as that continued to happen. When a slim bookcase had appeared against the wall closest to Aziraphale's side of the bed, neither of them had felt the need to comment on it. It had been totally natural, accompanied by a silent gratitude.  
  
Aziraphale looked down at the book, then back to Crowley as he leaned against the edge of the desk, staying so close to him that their legs were touching. "Ah, yes. It's a book about relaxation and mindfulness techniques. I found it while tidying the shelves today and thought perhaps we could have a go at learning some more of those sometime soon. Give you more tools to put in your belt. I've been very pleased with how well you've taken to the box breathing."   
  
"I... yeah, I think I'd like that." Crowley replied, watching and giving a silent nod as Aziraphale's hand came to rest innocently on his knee, creating another point of contact between them. "It helps. Think it's saved my arse a time or two. More of that can't be bad."  
  
"That was just about my line of thinking, as well. The box breathing works very well for you, and I haven't noticed any dip in its effectiveness. But having other techniques to fall back on couldn't hurt. There may even be a way for us to link them together."  
  
Crowley sat up just enough to settle his hand on top of Aziraphale's, wanting to touch him. "I'm never gonna get over how you always go 'round with me in mind."  
  
It made Aziraphale smile, and he turned his hand to hook his fingers into his demon's, rubbing the tip of his pinky against the ring he wore. "At this stage there's little else I can do but think about you, my darling. Nor do I want to do otherwise."  
  
Crowley's cheeks tinted, and his eyes shut as he grumbled and slumped back into the chair. "One of these days you're just gonna make me burst."  
  
Aziraphale chuckled at the display, playfully patting the other's leg. "Not to worry, love. If that happens, I'll pick up every bit and put you back together."  
  
The amber eyes popped back open at that, flicking over to stare at the angel's face. "Fuck, I have no doubt you actually would."  
  
"Of course I would. I don't say anything I don't mean, sweetest." He hummed, gently nudging Crowley's legs to get him to move them off the desk and sit up properly.  
  
The demon finally snapped his fingers to turn off the flat screen, scooting up to the edge of his chair. "So, why'd you come home early?"  
  
Aziraphale turned, taking the unspoken invitation to settle himself in Crowley's lap, winding an arm around the demon's waist as he leaned against him. "It's become a bit dreary outside, I'm afraid. No one was coming in, so I decided to close."  
  
Crowley had to wonder if that was actually a natural occurrence... and had to wonder twice as much when seeing how handsy the angel had been since he'd come home, but said nothing about it. "Shame. I'm sure the rest of your day would've been so productive, otherwise."  
  
"Indeed. One never knows when they might receive a call inquiring after a book of prophecy." Anyone else probably would've taken him seriously, but Crowley knew him so well he could easily see the sarcasm in it. It made him snort.  
  
"Only for there to miraculously be static on the line, 'cause you'd never let those go, 'course." He teased, placing a hand on Aziraphale's back to let his fingers trace the length of his spine. "Y'wanna crack this book open and see what we can get stuck into? Didn't have any other plans for the day. Not like I was particularly invested in this shit tv show."  
  
"Oh." It started off as a pleased murmur at the attention, but turned into a little noise of surprise. "I didn't mean to imply that I wanted you to hop up and do it right now. I'd like to go at your pace, darling."  
  
So it was his pace, as ever. It was honestly relieving how comfortable Aziraphale was with deferring to him on these matters. The more in control he felt, the better, probably. It really made sense, considering the first thing it felt like his anxiety would take away from him was control. "Mm. And what if my pace is telling me to start doing it right now?"  
  
Aziraphale smiled, kissing him on the cheek and then running the pad of his thumb over the same spot. "Then we can do it right now."  
  
"Here?"  
  
"On the floor, probably. Or... we can go to the bed. It would be more comfortable."  
  
Crowley was still currently in his laziest state and latched onto the word 'comfortable'. "Bed."  
  
"What an absolute treasure this conversation has been." Aziraphale laughed, getting up from Crowley's lap to retrieve the book just as he realized the flow of the last part of said conversation and his ears and cheeks bloomed color.  
  
"_Oi!_ Sneaky bastard. You're definitely not gonna get me to relax like _that!"_  
  
Aziraphale was still turned around, so he couldn't _see_ that smug look on his face, but he could hear it in his voice. "Oh, I know you can be good and behave for me. I have faith in you."  
  
Crowley stared at him, burning holes in the back of his head. Touchy as he'd been, he still hadn't been expecting him to flirt at the moment. He pinched his shirt between his fingers, lifting it up to use it to fan himself slightly, as it had gotten him hot under the collar. "Ngk. I swear, you're killing me here." He groaned, following the angel's path to stand and walk down the hall with him to the bedroom.  
  
"Hush, now. I'm done teasing you, I promise. Plenty of time for all that later." The angel laughed, shedding his coat to hang it over the back of a chair on his way to climb into the bed, sitting cross legged in front of the pillows.  
  
Crowley joined him shortly thereafter, draping his body across the end of the bed sideways. He propped his head up on his palm, watching Aziraphale set the book into his lap, briefly studying the cover before moving to properly open it.  
  
The serpent's gaze flicked up, starting at the top of his angel's head, and trailed down, sticking on his face once he'd realized: Aziraphale had put on his glasses.  
  
It softened Crowley immediately, and he was openly beaming at him before he knew it. Aziraphale was _always_ cute to Crowley. But it was like he took that dial and cranked it past its limits when he put those glasses on. He didn't need them to see or to read... it seemed more habit than anything. Something he did to blend in. They were kind of alike, in that aspect.  
  
"I'll have a look through the table of contents..." Aziraphale muttered, eyes finally flicking up to look at Crowley. He was startled to find him in such a state. It temporarily made him lose his train of thought, and he stared for a long moment before speaking up. "Goodness. What have I done to deserve such a lovely expression on you?"  
  
Part of Crowley wanted to be embarrassed at being caught, but the larger part couldn't bear to break the moment, especially after seeing how pleased Aziraphale was with his attention. "Your glasses."  
  
"My... glasses?"  
  
"Yes, _your glasses!_ They're fucking _**cute**."_ The word came out as damn near a whine. "They make me wanna kiss you all over."  
  
"Oh my." It was the angel's turn to flush, now. "Well, perhaps one or two won't hurt."  
  
Crowley grinned, scrambling up to get in close and practically pouncing the other in his haste to press rapid fire kisses to his pink cheeks.  
  
"Since when have you--Crowley, that tickles!" He laughed, temporarily forgetting his mission under the assault of affection, but pressing a hand to Crowley's chest to hold him back when he remembered it again, not wanting to get carried away and actually distracted. "Alright, alright." He said, clearing his throat and straightening up again, pulling the offending spectacles from his face to place them beside him as Crowley moved away from him to lay down again, settling at his feet this time. Through his amusement he watched him deflate a bit, but held firm, as he knew they would distract him too much if they stayed. "Since when have you felt this way about my glasses?"  
  
"Well, I've only managed to see 'em a few times. Only for a little bit, too. You'd always take 'em off. Always thought they were cute." He said, playfully poking at the sock clad foot that was closest to his head.  
  
Aziraphale knew precisely why he hadn't said anything about it before, but that knowledge just encouraged him further to make a mental note of it. "I'll keep that in mind then, shall I?"  
  
The demon became aware, all at once, that he'd just provided another weapon to be used against him. He couldn't really say he minded, though. "Yeah, I think you should." He hummed, letting his hand run over the underside of Aziraphale's calf. He looked for disapproval, but didn't find it, so continued to administer the casual touch.  
  
"Then I think I will." He replied, briefly diverting his hand from the pages of the book to ruffle Crowley's hair. "Right. Back to business, now. There's a broad range of techniques listed here... we'll want to stick to something simple for the moment, I think. We can work up to the more complex ones, should you need them." His eyes studied the lines of text, and he seemed to consider it for a moment before looking at Crowley again. "Perhaps a guided meditation would be good for today. What do you think, love?"  
  
The demon just shrugged. "Doesn't sound overly complicated. What's it teach?"  
  
Aziraphale turned to the correct page in the book, eyes skimming the contents before he answered. "I imagine that depends upon the contents of each individual session, but the example outlined in the book falls under both categories, by the looks of it. Relaxation and Mindfulness. This specific technique doesn't appear to be something you can really use on your own... not in _precisely_ the same form, anyway. I believe it's more about establishing the concepts, so you can take it and make it into something you can use by yourself."  
  
"So... this is to teach me how it works? Then I figure out how to change it to suit me?"  
  
"Essentially, yes. I'll be helping you, of course. Meditation probably is just about the best place to start with supporting techniques, now that I think on it. It's like a sibling or a cousin to the box breathing. Perhaps a companion, even. Both are meant to narrow your focus down and put it on something other than what's making you anxious. With the box breathing, you take your focus and put it solely on breathing in the cycles. It's meant more for an immediate application, in a panic situation, like you've been using it. " He looked down, and upon seeing that Crowley was looking up at him directly, reached down to draw his fingertips over the line of the other's jaw, wanting to establish a point of contact with him and also reward him for paying such close attention.  
  
"You can focus on any of a quite varied amount of things with meditation. You can think about your breathing, still, or something totally different. It could be something as simple as this, the feeling of my fingertips against your jaw. You can go the opposite direction, as well. Go to another world entirely. I would say this would be better to use if you only feel jittery, for a low grade panic that hasn't developed fully. It likely won't be very useful in a severe situation. It won't be as easy for you to master, either, so I suspect you'll prefer to still use the box breathing, but this is a good secondary measure, I believe."  
  
"You're certainly doing a good job of selling it."  
  
Aziraphale moved his hand away from its resting place on the jaw in favor of gently tugging at Crowley's arm, urging him to move from his position. "Up you get, now. Technically you can lie down to meditate, but while you're learning it, you should sit up straight. Well, straight as you can, at any rate. I know you have trouble with that." He teased, uncrossing his legs and moving the book to set it down beside him so he could make a space in front of him for Crowley to settle into. "It will help your focus if you manage."  
  
Very similarly to how he'd acted when Aziraphale taught him the box breathing originally, Crowley raised up, stubbornly pulling his body into a perfect L angle against the bed. It was sort of funny how easy it was to get him to do things with a well placed jab like that. 

"Good. That wasn't so hard, was it?" He chuckled, glancing down to refer to the book again. "Perhaps it's fortunate for you that this particular example focuses on breathing, as well. You've gotten good at that already. With a foundation like that, it may be easier for you to pick this up."  
  
"Won't know 'til we try, right?" The demon hummed, continuing to sit stiffly between the other's legs, unsure if he should be touching him.  
  
"Easy, love. I was joking with you, before. Get comfortable. You can lean on me." He whispered, giving Crowley a gentle peck on the cheek after he'd moved to do so, settling with his hands on Crowley's hips. "I'm here for support. All you need to do is listen and try to follow along as best you can. Now..."   
  
_Just close your eyes... and relax. Gently move your attention away from your thoughts, to the physical sensations in your head. Move the focus out into the muscles in your forehead and the flickering of your eyes. Let go of the tension you're holding in your body: Relax your jaw. Feel the heaviness in your shoulders and let them drop away from your neck. Relax your upper arms, your lower arms, your hands, your fingers._  
  
The change in his voice as he started to read had momentarily sent a shiver up Crowley's spine, but he tamped it down fairly quickly, in favor of refocusing the energy to help him relax. It helped that the text was deliberately engineered to be calming. He followed the instructions, one by one, until he was leaning back against Aziraphale in a near boneless state.  
  
_Notice the feeling of your breathing. Note how your body is feeling as you relax and drop. The part of your mind that's doing the noticing, that's your awareness. You don't need to do anything at all, for it to work. Awareness is always there. Settle in and stay with your breathing for a few moments. Your breath will find a natural rhythm. Remember that awareness is always there, you don't have to chase it. Breathe in, know you're breathing in. Breathe out, know you're breathing out._  
  
_If your mind becomes busy, that's alright. It's a natural occurrence. Thoughts, images, and sensations, they'll come and they'll go. The goal is to notice them without actually thinking about them. Let them flow through and around you, but don't focus on them. Don't try to stop them or try to make them go away. You don't need to try to change them, they'll change on their own. When sounds appear, hear them, when sensations appear, feel them, when thoughts and images come to mind, notice them. This is how we sit and know we're sitting._  
  
The words that tumbled from between his lips were soft, a series of gentle commands to draw Crowley's attention to his breath, to the slackening of his muscles and his weight as it pressed down against the mattress. He gave the demon the instruction to let himself float through his thoughts, to let them flow past him, over him. He told him, again and again, repeating it like a mantra, that instead of focusing on them, he should be feeling every little sensation from the crown of his head down to the tips of his toes, experiencing every strained thread of muscle relaxing as tension left his body.  
  
And for a while, he remained fully on board. He listened and internalized every single concept of what Aziraphale was saying to him. When it came to actually _doing it,_ though, that was another matter. Instead of focusing on _his own_ breathing as the instruction dictated that he should do, Crowley's attention had wandered to _Aziraphale's_ breathing, and he found himself getting lost in the even rhythm that the angel maintained as he read from the passages, the steady in and out motion of his chest, pressed up against his back.   
  
After a time Crowley lost track of the words entirely and the voice in his ear became an indeterminate rumble in the background. He'd become completely soaked into the pattern of Aziraphale's breathing, noting every little hitch and irregularity in the otherwise quiet room. He wasn't aware of when it happened, exactly, but at some point he noticed through the haze that his breathing had synced up with his angel's, and that just felt..._ right._ His chest was rising and falling at precisely the same rate, and his exhales carried the same timbre as his lover's. The breaths they were drawing were exactly the same ones. This moment joined the ranks of a mere handful of others. It truly felt like they were one.  
  
He pictured Aziraphale's face clear as crystal with his eyes closed, perhaps even more clearly and vividly than he'd see him if they were open. He tried to let it go, let it float away on one of his exhales, pull back, refocus... but, if anything, the image only grew stronger the more he tried to get away from it. He noted, absently, that this was probably why such emphasis was placed on this very thing in the text. He inhaled again, and instead of simple peace, instead of awareness of himself returning, it continued to be Aziraphale that his senses were filled with. His scent flooded Crowley's nose, from that close up. His cologne: coffee beans. Chocolate. Home.  
  
It surprised him, shocked him straight out of that deep part of his brain and yanked him up to the surface, when Aziraphale patted his leg, suddenly signalling that the session was over. "Well, that's all there is to it, then. It's a fairly short practice, especially when it comes to these introductory passages. What do you think?"  
  
"...I think I'm not very good at this meditation stuff." Crowley replied, cheeks burning as he opened his eyes again.   
  
Aziraphale's forehead creased. "Hm? I thought you did just fine."  
  
"Dunno. I think you're right, I like the other way better. But this might help me more with the day to day junk, if I can get it right. Box breathing feels like overkill for the little stuff, so I don't use it. I can try using this instead of just letting things go."  
  
"Do keep in mind that not everything works for everyone, my love. It would likely be prudent to try it another time or two before writing it off completely, but you don't have to keep using it if it isn't doing anything." Aziraphale hummed, letting his hands wander and slide over his demon's sides.  
  
"Nah. It _is_ doing something. It's relaxing. Just..." He trailed off. He couldn't help feeling like he'd just been fucking around and wasted Aziraphale's time by letting his mind focus in on something else entirely and missing at least half of the program.  
  
"Just?" The angel prodded, resting his chin on Crowley's shoulder.  
  
"It's... probably not doing what it should. I, uh... I couldn't do it like I was supposed to."  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
He broke, with a deep sigh. He knew he had to just admit it. "Didn't focus on me as much as I focused... on you."  
  
"Me?"  
  
Crowley shifted in his spot, feeling embarrassed and guilty. "Yeah. The way your voice sounded. The way you were breathing. The way you were holding me. The way you smell. It felt like I couldn't help it. Was definitely relaxing... but I did it wrong."  
  
"I wouldn't say you did it _wrong,_ darling. Just... as you said, not as intended. I don't think anything can be completely wrong if it's helping. Perhaps this is simply something I can't teach you totally properly... due to the nature of our relationship. I thought we might run up against this wall eventually."  
  
Crowley quickly shook his head. "It's not your fault. I'll try harder next time. I'm sorry."  
  
But Aziraphale was soon soothing him, wrapping him up in his arms. "Shh. I didn't mean to imply it's a flaw, love. There's nothing for you to apologize for, so I don't want to hear that from you. You haven't done anything wrong, and I haven't done anything wrong. I only bring up that fact as a means to say that the result we come out with if we continue to use this method will surely be a bit unorthodox."  
  
"You'd have me focus on you, not me. On purpose. That right?"  
  
"Basically, yes. We'd be winging it, since it's quite different from how this is supposed to work."  
  
Crowley's fingers tapped together as he thought about it. "There's other stuff I can learn... to focus on myself, right?"  
  
"Of course, dear. You already know the box breathing, and you use it well. You do _very well,_ focusing on yourself with that. In this book alone, there are a lot of additional things to try. No two journeys are precisely the same. It's all about finding what works best for each individual. It's just a lot of trial and error."  
  
"Then... you think it's okay to let me use this one thing to focus on you instead?" He asked, voice low as he turned toward Aziraphale to seek affirmation. He didn't want to take this as-is if it was going to end up being a choice that derailed everything.  
  
Aziraphale met his eyes, giving him that trademark, unbearably kind smile. "I don't see why not. Perhaps there's a way I can create an offshoot that's more like the normal process, as well. A way to make it so that it involves you in a more direct sensory way, versus relying on your mind to fill in the gaps by itself. I shall have to think on it. Moving back toward the intended application as you get stronger may be best, but as I see it... this may actually work better, for now. You focusing on me, I mean. Having the knowledge that I'm alright is always a great boon to the effort of keeping you calm. It seems a good weapon to have."  
  
"If it's alright... if it won't screw things up somehow, then yeah." He still felt a bit uneasy, but it wasn't the first time and wouldn't be the last time that he placed his faith in Aziraphale's assurances.  
  
"There's no need to worry, love. It may be a bit odd, a bit outside the box, but then... so are we. It fits right in with us." He laughed, giving Crowley a squeeze around the waist. "Would you like to keep going? I can find more exercises for us to do."  
  
"Mm-mm. I think that's good for now. But it's still pretty early, so..."   
  
Aziraphale looked at him curiously. "Have you got something else in mind?"  
  
"Well, yeah. Kinda. Wanna go off to Westeros for the afternoon? You keep meaning to and always forget. Been a while since you did, and I know you liked it a lot."  
  
The angel wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it definitely wasn't that. "Oh, goodness. It _has_ been a while. I may have to re-read."  
  
"Shame, that. Be a double shame if I had to lay on you and you had to read to me."  
  
Aziraphale smiled. "Oh, indeed. _Such_ a shame."  
  
He would, of course, make sure he wore his glasses this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back pals. We livin' \m/
> 
> Although if I'm honest this chapter almost didn't happen on time bc I caught The Weeb Plague from AWA and I've been lowkey dying since I got home. I'm usually fine but my sleep schedule was royally fucked (I started off the weekend by not sleeping for like 36 hours?) so I think that made me just weak enough to contract it this time   
I had a really great time though and I'm definitely planning to go again next year, especially since it's gonna be on Halloween again!
> 
> I'm mostly recovered now but attempting to write thousands of words through a low grade fever is a trip let me tell you 😂  
I must apologize if there is any dip in quality as a result (I checked it over and all seems to be well but you know as I'm the one that wrote it I'm not sure I have a qualified opinion) but I really didn't want to take another week off lmfao


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the last 'on location' session had gone so well, they'd agreed to try it again. This time, they sat in a dimly lit pub, across from each other at that one specific table. The circle was scrawled on its top with chalk, and their hands rested there, tightly clasped against its glow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick content warning for this one, they're discussing Armageddon Day, and more specifically, Crowley's breakdown in the pub and everything surrounding that, so... there's some grazing here of dicey topics like suicidal thoughts. Thought I'd warn y'all in case I've got readers out there who need it! Your mental health is important to me <3

After the last 'on location' session had gone so well, they'd agreed to try it again. This time, they sat in a dimly lit pub, across from each other at that one specific table. The circle was scrawled on its top with chalk, and their hands rested there, tightly clasped against its glow.  
  
Crowley's glasses sat on the tabletop as well, just off to the side of his arm. He'd shut all of the humans out, made it so they were in their own little bubble, so he felt more than comfortable enough to take them off. The pub wasn't that busy, but it was just as well, really. He wanted Aziraphale to be able to see him, all of him.  
  
He'd been silent a long time, free hand nursing the remainder of that glass of scotch he'd felt obliged to order in exchange for taking up space in the pub. "Y'know, if you hadn't popped up... I think I was on a good track to killing myself in this chair."

The words came suddenly, and the content of them was shocking. Aziraphale had to work very hard to bite back his knee-jerk reaction, 'Don't say that.'  
  
He still _felt it_ in every cell of his body, but he knew he couldn't go there. He couldn't start censoring Crowley, especially not when they'd gotten this far now. It felt like he was opening up more and more each time, exposing his very core to Aziraphale and allowing him to handle it.  
  
It was the softest part of him. The most vulnerable part of him. It would be easily bruised, easily harmed if mishandled. And yet, he handed it over almost without hesitation at this point.  
  
Aziraphale wouldn't hurt him, of that he was certain.  
  
Through these acts, he continually proved that he really did trust Aziraphale more than he would ever dream of trusting anyone else.  
  
If this was a consequence of that-- if the trade off was hearing a couple of things he didn't want to hear, well... that was alright. He'd accept it. It may be uncomfortable, but it was an easy price of admission in exchange for what he was getting in return.  
  
"There's really no other way to put it, is there? I was drinking myself to death in this pub. It was just a... slower way than most people would do it, I guess. Either that would get me, or the world would end. In either case, I was headed for discorporation. And you know they would've had me right where they wanted me if that happened. I was a goner for sure. Was in Hell's bad books already. Not that they have any other kind... they're a simple-minded lot. Either they ignore you or they want you dead."  
  
Crowley's fingers slipped and tapped against the side of the glass in front of him, and he watched Aziraphale's reflection bounce in the continuously disturbed liquid. The mirror image of him was just murky and opaque enough that he looked like he had back in that moment... there, but not.  
  
"It feels gross to say it now, but... I don't think I minded that, by the time I was here. I never actually sat here and had a direct thought like 'I want to die', but I didn't want to _live_ without you. Killing yourself and not caring if you die are two different things, aren't they? Maybe not. Dunno. Not sure which one's worse, if they are."   
  
He drank down the amber liquid, then set the glass aside and looked up to see Aziraphale properly, eyes roaming over his face, trailing over the neutral set line of his mouth, that slight wrinkle in his forehead that threatened to furrow his brow. Despite how inappropriate it was under the current circumstances, it struck him again how happy he was to simply get to be in his presence, to get to be this close to him at all. Being able to observe him and take in every single detail was just the icing on that cake.

But he knew he had something else to be concentrating on. Perhaps that was just one of his ways of avoiding it.  
  
"I sat here and I thought... if it comes, _when_ it comes, it comes. Was being passive about it. I wasn't gonna resist it. I was convinced there was no point in trying anymore, not if you were gone. I know you would never want that for me, to die for you with that stupid, over-dramatic Romeo and Juliet type shite. I _know,_ Angel. But the idea of living on this rock by myself was unthinkable. I didn't even consider it, not really. I thought there was _especially_ no point worrying about it if there'd soon be no world left to live in anyway. If those war hungry fucks were gonna destroy it, why bother even going outside again? I'd just wait it out. I don't think I could've saved it on my own, even if I'd had the will left in me to try."  
  
It truly did feel disgusting to admit this, at this point. He was picking at an old wound, and normally that didn't bother him as much as it was doing right now. Perhaps because _this_ wound felt more like it could be Aziraphale's wound than it was his own. But picking at old wounds so they could heal properly was the entire point of all of this, and he knew that. He knew he needed to do it. Knew it was important. But he still also knew what it was surely doing to Aziraphale.  
  
For the angel's part, though, he was remarkably composed. He squeezed Crowley's hand, and those blue eyes looked deeply into his. "I do think it'd be good to remember that you did all the heavy lifting yourself, love."  
  
"I can see your point, but I won't claim _all_ of it. I know I wouldn't have done any of that otherwise. Not without you. If you hadn't been there to freeze me down to my bones... if you weren't there to freak me out, it would've been a lot different. When I've commented on your knowing what to say, I haven't just meant in the here and now. I've meant stuff like that, too. I mean, seriously. Fucking... _seriously._ 'I'll never talk to you again'? You knew exactly what to say to kick my arse into gear and make me wake the fuck up. It's like... you saw that big honking red button in front of your face and slammed your fist right into it."   
  
The description made Aziraphale laugh. "It's simply a gift, my love. The gift of knowing you for six thousand years enabled me to do that. It's also a big part of what's allowing me to help you now, too."  
  
Crowley's gaze dropped to the table. "Y'know... I feel a bit bad for it now, but... for a second there, I really had the thought that you meant it when you raised that sword up, that saying we were on opposite sides reminded you what we were. That you were gonna..."  
  
"Oh, no. Crowley, no. I'd never have harmed a hair on your head." The blonde's free hand moved, tipping Crowley's chin up to make him look at him again. "I can't say that I blame you for doubting it, because I did hurt you on purpose before. Not physically, but... I'd just finished leveling the most egregious of those emotional offenses at you not long before that. I drew the line in the sand, and you would have been fully justified in not completely trusting me. But I truly only meant to scare you. It was nothing but a big bluff. One that ended up paying off, but still."  
  
"Yeah, I know that now. Knew it then, too. Deep down, I did. There was just so much going on, I wasn't thinking straight."  
  
"You could hardly be blamed for that, either. For the most part I believe we were both just flying by the seat of our pants. There's no instruction manual for averting the apocalypse, after all. Every single force was against us. We managed somehow, though. I'll admit, some of it is still difficult to wrap my head around. The luck that was involved, for a start."  
  
"Even at that point, I think I might've still been having trouble believing it was all real. From the time we were here, the doubt hit me in flickers. You were here with me then... or, at least, I wanted to believe you really were. Something in me _hoped_ you were, even though I thought I'd lost all my hope at that point. Was a wonder I had the capacity anymore, things seemed so clear cut. Up til that moment, when I saw you appear in that corner... I was convinced you'd been destroyed completely. That... _that_ was... Hellfire, that it must've been." His hand was breaking out into a sweat as his fingers tightened around Aziraphale's.   
  
A cursory glance over his chest and shoulders, watching their rhythmic rise, told the angel that Crowley was utilizing his favored skill. Via counting in his head in the silence, he deduced that it had taken about five cycles for Crowley to ease back down from that precipice. He didn't speak, but instead let his thumb brush over the edge of the demon's hand as his grip relaxed slightly. It was a silent approval and expression of pride. After a tiny swallow, Crowley continued speaking. "Nothing else made sense at the time. I wanted to believe I hadn't gone completely mental, but there was no way to be sure. That was where the signs were pointing, and I wouldn't have been shocked if I did, if you being alive was something I made up. My head was already past fucked up by then, I just didn't know it yet."  
  
He wasn't sure it would've mattered if he _had_ known. Perhaps knowing would've been worse, actually. He would've been afraid of it, every moment. The timing of his first panic attack had been bad enough as it was, but if it had happened in the middle of all the action? If it had taken him out of commission at the wrong time, things likely would have gone much differently than they had.  
  
Stupid as it was to think so, he'd gotten lucky.  
  
"We'd been fighting. We hadn't made up yet. But... it didn't matter. It didn't matter at all. If you were alright,_ somehow_... if I hadn't gone crazy, and that was real, I wanted to find you. _Needed_ to find you. I didn't think I could do anything. Didn't think I had it in me. But even if it was really the end, I wanted to be with you. Nah, _especially_ if it was the end. If there was nothing we could do... I wanted to face the end with you. I wanted to be with you when it fell apart."  
  
"I think that's what led me to appear in front of you, while I had no body. I was thinking about you. Nothing but you. I was just about convinced I'd lost you, too. Your threat to leave felt very real, so I thought you'd gone. I thought I'd... pushed you away for good. I could and had planned to still make a go of thwarting the course of things without you, but... I was doubtful about my chances, on my own. And that's to say nothing of the regrets I felt."  
  
This time, it was Aziraphale's gaze that dropped. It only took him a moment to steady himself, though, and his eyes were back on Crowley's. Warm. "So, imagine my surprise when I felt you here, near to me. I couldn't see you, but I could feel you. And then I _heard_ you. You called out my name, do you remember that? Nothing had ever sounded as sweet to my ears as your voice did in that moment, my love. It made up my mind for me. I was going to find a body, someone that would willingly host me, no matter what it took. I was going to face that battle head on. I'd defend you and our home. And I also trusted... that you would come."  
  
Crowley almost looked guilty. "You probably trusted me too much. I almost _didn't_ go. After you'd gone, I... thoughts that I'd made it up started to come back. Like 'Don't be stupid, you know it's not true. Even if you go out to that airbase you're gonna find nothing there.' It was rough, and I think I got whiplash from going back and forth. Dunno how I actually managed to drag my sorry arse out of this chair and get in the car again. I didn't want to. Didn't have the energy, but I did it. That tiny bit of hope that I might be wrong and you might really be alright made me do it."  
  
His voice had gone a bit raspy, and he sounded almost like he had back then... when he'd been sat here in this chair, a complete mess. Drowning his sorrows in the bottles he kept making the barkeep bring to him, so he wouldn't have to think anymore. Trying in vain to stop the constant stream of thoughts of Aziraphale.  
  
"And if I was wrong... if I'd gone mad, what difference did it honestly make, where I was when the world ended? It'd still happen the same way, so... that was what pushed me up onto my feet, I think. The part of me that believed in you got up to go and pulled the rest of me along with it." He snorted with amusement. It was kind of funny to say so, since... that still happened quite frequently. Aziraphale truly was his rock.  
  
The thought made him feel soft, and that softness transferred over to his eyes too as he looked up at his angel.  
  
"Do you know, when I said... when I said I'd come to you... wherever you were? I meant it. And I meant it even more than_ I_ realized I meant it. Even if you'd have said 'Heaven', I know I would've gotten up and marched right down to that building. I would've gone up that escalator, and I would've fought anybody I had to, to make sure you were safe." His fingers stroked down the back of Aziraphale's hand. "I keep saying I didn't have the strength to do anything, and I really didn't. But I would've found it, like I had to do anyway. I would've found it faster, probably. I wouldn't have let them snatch you away from me. I wouldn't have let them take you, my hope, away. I was gonna get to you, didn't matter what I'd have to do. You were gone, but then you weren't, or, at least, it was a real possibility you weren't. If that was true, I was gonna keep it that way."  
  
Everything contained in that speech worked together to seize Aziraphale's heart. "You..." His exhale was deep, and he had to bite his lip to keep his wet eyes from spilling over. "Crowley, you really have to stop claiming that you don't know what to say. You did so much that day. You were so instrumental in saving Earth... and _that_ was your motivator? You can't be saying these things to me without knowing that you claim my heart over again every single time you do it. I don't know who can hear something like that and walk away from it without feeling completely besotted." He sniffed, taking a moment that Crowley very willingly let him have to get himself together. "I love you, you absolutely _wonderful_ creature."  
  
"I love you too, Angel. Always have." Came the reply, and the demon lifted Aziraphale's free hand up to his lips to press a fond kiss to it before letting it go again. "But, uh, y'know, I really _can't_ let you say I did everything. You've done nothing but important stuff, starting then. You've been doing _so much_ since then. You fought your way back to me. You saved me. You're _still_ saving me. You save me every single fucking day, and there's nothing I can begin to do that would match up to that. All the pretty words in the world won't match up to that, no matter how true they are."  
  
Aziraphale wouldn't take that sitting down, though. He leaned forward, hooking Crowley under the chin with his fingers to pull him forward enough to kiss him. The contact was light and brief, but he got the message across anyway. "Now, you listen to me. I'll accept what you've said, insofar as accepting your gratitude. What I _won't_ do is sit here and let you put yourself down, or discount your own work. You are worth _every bit_ of effort that I spend on you. I love you, and part of loving someone is helping them. You don't owe me _anything_. You've put in so much effort on your own, too. I'm speaking not only of the strides you've made personally, but I'm quite confident in saying there's nothing you work harder at than loving me. So, you can't give me all the credit for anything, either. We have to share it."  
  
He cradled Crowley's face between his hands, pleased at the heat he could feel under his palms and the weight of Crowley's hands as they covered his. "You don't have to 'match up' to anything, Crowley. I'm going to keep telling you until you get it. I don't need or want you to feel like you have an obligation to return anything I do. The only thing I _do_ want is for you to be happy and well. Your happiness and your love are more than sufficient a reward for me."  
  
It was sappy, it was over-sweet, but the point was clear, and Crowley couldn't help but feel moved. His smile traveled up and crinkled the corners of his eyes. "See, it's like I've always told you. You're _always_ gonna be better at knowing what to say."  
  
"Hush. I believe I've made my position known on that issue." The angel's face was much softer than his words, carrying such a strong affection on his features that it almost hurt to look at him. "And besides, from what I saw that day, you did your fair share of fighting as well, my dear. The poor car was in... quite a state when you pulled up at the airbase."  
  
Crowley's hand found his forehead. Of course this would've inevitably come up at some point. "That was my fault, too. Y'see, I have this really bad habit of setting things up in a way that I end up fucking myself over. Took over 40 years for it to bite me in the arse that time, at least. Usually it's a lot more immediate."  
  
Such as knocking out the entire mobile phone network in the region and then needing to make an important call.   
  
"So, uh, only fighting I feel like I did that day was with myself, really. Well, and with the damned car. Still a bit bitter with it for rubbing things in my face like that. It owed me one for betraying me. Did well, in the end, so... got back in my good graces. Genuinely did break me up when I thought it was a goner. I do love it, y'know. Even when it didn't love me back. Couldn't do anything about it if it was destroyed by Hellfire."  
  
Aziraphale was silent for a long moment. "My darling, I'm forced to admit that you've lost me. You're going to have to go back to the beginning and explain this more thoroughly. What happened?" He'd tried his best to make sense of Crowley's tangent, but hadn't been successful on his own.  
  
Now _both_ of Crowley's hands were covering his face. From embarrassment, and also exasperation with the fact that he had to verbally explain exactly how he had fucked everything up. "The M25. The motorway, the one 'round London? I fucked around with the design, when they were gonna build it. Moved some markers across a field one night. Scored me some points with Hell."   
  
This type of mischief had become his brand by then. Minor annoyances, just enough to stir the pot, aggravate the humans. Doing enough of that was how he'd gotten by and stayed under the radar. No one had ever even noticed that he wasn't doing anything truly evil.  
  
Aziraphale just stared at him, clearly not getting the point. "And?"  
  
"_And._ It became an impassible ring of Hellfire around London on Armageddon Day."  
  
The pieces finally began to draw together in Aziraphale's head. "Oh."  
  
Crowley scowled at nothing in particular. His teeth were grinding as he cursed his past self. "_And._ I had to get out of London to get to Tadfield. Which would have been a damn sight easier if there'd been a way that wasn't blocked."  
  
"_Oh._ Right. I get it now."  
  
"So, to do as you asked, to get to you, I had to..." His hand shook with a small tremor, just once, and then he'd brought it back under control. The implication of his words was clear.  
  
"Crowley, you _drove_ through it? That's why the car was..." He trailed off, temporarily rendered speechless. "You're absolutely mad. You could have been killed."  
  
"Was fine. Just had to put my mind to it, and I'd get through. Knew it, and did it. Besides that, Demon and all. Supposed to... thrive in that stuff." Clearly, he was trying hard to keep the details of the situation at bay and not let the image of the fire in to overwhelm him. At the time it hadn't bothered him, but this sleeping beast hadn't yet awoken in him. The effort it was taking to remain level was clear, but Aziraphale was proud of him for what he was accomplishing, especially after he'd already suffered a couple of dips. "How'd _you_ get there, then?" He asked, and the fact that Aziraphale was the one that could've actually been killed by it was swiftly pushed out of his brain before it had a real chance to take hold and thrown off into the ether. Obviously he'd found some way around it.  
  
"I flew."  
  
"You _flew."_ He repeated, trying to force himself to process that information and at the same time confirming that he hadn't misheard.  
  
Aziraphale scoffed. "_Yes,_ I flew." Again, he said the words.  
  
And again, Crowley heard them, but not _really._ It still wasn't sticking, somehow. "You flew, in a human's body." Just because he hadn't done it in a while didn't mean he'd forgotten how... but the notion seemed ridiculous. Maybe even impossible. Crowley couldn't say he'd ever been in a position to try it.  
  
And what about Shadwell? He'd gotten there somehow, too. Not on the ground, for sure. Had Aziraphale carried him on his back? That only made the image _even more_ absurd. He almost had to physically stifle the laughter that was threatening to form and pour out of him.  
  
Aziraphale clicked his tongue at him. "Driving one of those two wheeled motorized contraptions, yes. With Sergeant Shadwell on the back."  
  
Crowley wasn't sure if that addition made it easier or harder to believe than the images his brain had produced of Aziraphale using his wings.  
  
"A _motorcycle?"_ The mental image of Aziraphale on a motorcycle was simultaneously completely ridiculous and oddly attractive. Shadwell excluded, of course.  
  
"I believe it's called a moped, actually."  
  
It struck him, then. There _had_ been a moped there, hadn't there. He'd been quite distracted at the time and had hardly noticed it.  
  
He was still distracted now as well, admittedly. The motorcycle was still in his head.  
  
Aziraphale leaned over, to put himself directly into Crowley's line of sight. "Are you well, dear?"  
  
His eyes focused on Aziraphale's face, and he found him looking over curiously. "Huh? Y-Yeah."  
  
"What were you thinking about, just then?"  
  
"Uh." His eyes flicked down. "You."  
  
The angel couldn't help laughing. "You certainly make quite a variety of expressions when you think about me! This is a totally different one than it was the last time you answered that question this way."  
Crowley felt the blood rush his cheeks. "It was, uh... you, on a motorcycle."  
  
Aziraphale made a noise that began as a scoff but turned into a good-natured chuckle. "Ah. And that's amusing to you, I imagine."  
  
"Yeah... yeah, but... er. It's... sort of hot, too."  
  
Aziraphale's eyes were sharp on him in one beat. "_Really._"  
  
The transition was so abrupt that it pushed that oh-so telling sound out of Crowley. "Ngk. Uh, Angel... d'you mind if we go home now?"   
  
"Of course not, sweetest. We were just about done anyway, yes?"  
  
The gaze had also pushed his buttons, and he knew Aziraphale could tell, even if he played coy. "Yeah. I, um... I've said what I have to say about this."  
  
With that, Aziraphale rose, brushed away the lines of chalk, and pushed his chair in. "And I thank you for it. I know it must have been hard, to be so honest about that. You've definitely made more progress, though."  
  
Crowley mirrored the standing motion, head tilting as he looked up at the angel. "What d'you mean?"  
  
"I didn't have to tell you not to spare my feelings. I saw it in your eyes, you wanted to, but... you didn't try to hold back, this time. It's very good."  
  
"Is it?" He had to admit, he had a hard time believing that. Didn't it mean he was becoming indifferent?  
  
"Yes, it is." Aziraphale replied, reaching over to take Crowley's hand to lead him back out toward the car. "I've told you, many times. I don't want you to spare my feelings. You have to let everything out for this to work as effectively as it should. This time, I didn't have to say anything to you. You're learning."  
  
"But... it doesn't _feel like_ it's something good."  
  
Aziraphale brought them to a stop next to the car, turning around to face Crowley and leaning over to grab his other hand as well. "Shh. Let's nip that one in the bud, shall we? Crowley, it's clear that you care about me. Don't doubt that, even for a moment, because I don't. I couldn't. It's irrefutable. It's _abundantly_ clear to me. What you say to me during the sessions doesn't have any bearing on that fact. I want honesty from you, that's all. Being totally honest with me without worrying about my feelings doesn't make you cold, it's what I _want_ you to do. You can't hold back because you think something might upset me, and that's why I'm pleased that you've been able to push past that. Does that make sense?"  
  
Crowley was surprised to find that it did. It made total sense. "Yeah."  
  
"Good." Aziraphale hummed, letting go of Crowley finally to circle 'round the car to get to the passenger side. "If there's ever anything you're in doubt of, like that... just talk to me about it, alright? I'm never going to get angry with you for something like that. Rather than that, I'd probably be proud of you for asking."  
  
"Yeah... yeah, promise." Crowley paused as he stepped in beside the open door on his side, leaning over the top of the car. "Y'know, Angel..."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
Crowley briefly diverted his gaze to the dark metal of the car's top, but then brought it back, setting it firmly on Aziraphale. "If there's one thing I learned, more than anything else, going through all that... it's that I'm really just... better when I'm not alone."  
  
Aziraphale's answering smile melted him. "How very fortuitous for you, then, that 'alone' isn't something you'll find yourself to be anymore." He said, ducking down to get into the car.  
  
It was something Crowley couldn't dispute, as he followed him in. Even if he'd wanted to, he couldn't. Through it all, he _was_ a lucky demon. Truly an oddity for the ages.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure what it was about this one but it REALLY argued with me >_>  
It was stuck in my head and I had to knock very hard to get it to come out  
In conclusion apparently my superpower is writing 3/4 of an entire chapter in one day lmfao


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley sighed in relief, mouth positioned a bit away from his phone. Though it had been brief, listening to the ringing had been quite nerve-wracking, considering the last time he'd called that number had been just before he'd walked into a scene that had come out of his worst nightmares.
> 
> And that was meant literally, at this point.
> 
> "Angel. It's me."

_Beep. Beep.  
_  
_Beep. Beep.  
_  
_Click._ "...hello?"  
  
Crowley sighed in relief, mouth positioned a bit away from his phone. Though it had been brief, listening to the ringing had been quite nerve-wracking, considering the last time he'd called that number had been just before he'd walked into a scene that had come out of his worst nightmares.  
  
And that was meant literally, at this point.  
  
"Angel. It's me."  
  
"Ah. Hello, my love." There was a pause on the other end of the line, before he added "Is something the matter?"  
  
Crowley wondered if he was just guessing, given the fact that he'd called at all, or if something in his tone of voice had given it away. Maybe he'd heard that sigh after all. "N-No. Not really. Just... got a bit lonely, 's all. Feeling kinda blue today."  
  
"Would you like me to come home early?"  
  
The demon shook his head without comment, before remembering he was on a standard phone call and Aziraphale couldn't see him. "Mm-mm. Not unless you actually want to. 'S not for me to say, really. You do what you like. Gotta get used to being by myself sometimes, right? Don't wanna tie you down 24/7."  
  
A light chuckle came through the phone. "I do understand what you're trying to say, but I really must stress the fact that you don't tie me down whatsoever, darling. Never. I like spending time with you, even when we're doing absolutely nothing."  
  
"Well, I think you'd better!" Crowley laughed, rolling over in the spot he'd claimed on the bed to lay the phone against the mattress and put it on speaker so he could rest his head on one of the pillows from Aziraphale's side, breathing in his scent that still lingered there from when he'd been occupying the space earlier in the day.   
  
"Nah, but... you told me I could call back when you first started doing this... I've been fighting it all this time. Didn't wanna bother you -- and before you say I'd never bother you, I know. _I know._ It's hard to get my stupid brain totally on board with what I know, sometimes." He sighed. He hated that it currently felt like there wasn't much he could do about that. "Either way, I figured it was gonna be another while before you came back today, and, like I said, I'm... honestly, I'm feeling a bit rough. I'm just... having a moment, I guess. Dunno why. Dunno if there's a reason. Doesn't seem like there is, and if there is, I can't figure it out. But it made me wanna talk to you. Thought it might make me feel better."  
  
"And? Is it? Making you feel better." Aziraphale's voice had retained its lightness, but somehow Crowley could still tell that he was analyzing. Calculating. Cataloguing the information. He seemed to always be learning from their interactions, even the innocuous ones.  
  
"Mm. Yeah." The demon replied, smiling shyly into the pillow. "You always make me feel better, Angel. You know that."  
  
"I'm glad." There was a rustle on the other side of the line as Aziraphale presumably tucked the old phone receiver under his chin. Crowley could see it in his mind's eye, and it was horribly endearing. "What have you been getting up to today, then?"  
  
"Not much, if I'm honest. Just the usual stuff."  
  
Aziraphale huffed out a laugh. "Now, I _am_ aware that you have a usual. However, you've never told me exactly what that means. When I ask you what you've been up to, that's what you tell me, most of the time now. 'The usual.' And then you go on to talk to me about something you did that's of particular interest to you. You've never really specified what 'the usual' is, and I'm curious. Would you mind telling me?"  
  
"'S kinda boring, that's why I don't really go into detail. It's all stuff I've told you before. Don't wanna talk your ear off with the same shit every day, so I simplify it." He explained, taking a moment to think about it. Going over it once, when Aziraphale had specifically asked, was alright by him. "But yeah, I guess I'll tell you, since you're asking. Routine kinda snuck up on me without me noticing. Most days, after you leave, I go out and smoke... watch the city a while, then tend the plants. Depending on how long that takes, I do other stuff after."  
  
"'Other stuff' like what?" The angel pressed, wanting to get the full scope of the other's routine. It sounded like he wouldn't want to go over it again, willingly.  
  
Crowley picked a loose thread from the pillowcase. That horribly mundane action even seemed more interesting than what he was talking about, in some way, but he'd indulge Aziraphale. Honestly, he'd always indulge Aziraphale. "Look through my astronomy books and think about nice places to go on holiday, interstellar or otherwise. Fuck around on my phone. Whatever I can do to keep myself occupied, really. I mean, that one time I even got desperate enough to try reading your books, remember? That stupid show was on again today, so I watched it to kill some time earlier. Usually end up doing that when I get bored now. Lot of the time it's my last defense against_ reading._"  
  
He was positively sure there was a good-natured eye roll on the other side of the call. "I _have_ noticed that I've been hearing about that program a lot, too. You know, my dear, it's beginning to sound like you like it."  
  
"I don't."  
  
The bell over the shop door suddenly dinged, saving Crowley from having to further explain how he absolutely _did not_ like that show, he _just happened_ to be watching it every time it was on.  
  
"Oh." Aziraphale sounded disappointed at the untimely arrival of the mortal. It was clear to tell he was feeling more than a bit inconvenienced by the appearance, and Crowley shook his head on the other side of the phone, sporting a bemused smile. He was never going to understand Aziraphale's motivations for continuing to run his shop when he was clearly so put out by it. He'd stopped trying, after a while. It just hurt his head. "Welcome! I'll be with you in just a moment." He called out, sounding muffled. He'd put the receiver against his shoulder or something, probably. "Stay on the line, love. I'll be back as soon as I can." He informed Crowley, sounding a lot clearer that time.  
  
"'Course."  
  
And then Aziraphale was off, and it became mostly silent. Crowley rolled over onto his back as he listened to the background noise in the call, his eyes busying themselves with the work of tracing over the patterns in the lightly textured ceiling of the bedroom. The two voices were little more than a low rumble, and he couldn't hear the whole conversation the other was having with his patron, just snippets of it. Clear words worked their way through every now and again, contextless phrases. He snickered to himself at the fragments he did get of Aziraphale's 'customer service' voice. A human wouldn't be able to tell... actually, no one but Crowley would likely be able to tell, but it was made of pure annoyance scarcely concealed under a veneer of pleasantry.  
  
It was much like the personality inevitably developed by many a service industry worker, he guessed, but the difference was that it was cute on the angel.  
  
It was very fortunate for the two of them that they'd never had to put real effort toward supporting themselves, being able to conjure money from thin air and all. Crowley was decently sure neither one of them would've lasted long if they'd had to genuinely take on human jobs. The book shop, turbulent as it was for the demon to think about at the moment, was probably the only thing Aziraphale was suited for, and that was a generous way of thinking, in itself, considering how he conducted himself.  
  
As for Crowley... he couldn't imagine having to directly interact with humans on a day to day basis, like that. Part of him had once thought that maybe he could... run a flower shop, or something similar, but that idea quickly fell apart when he considered how the mortals would react to his methods of disciplining his plants, regardless of the results.  
  
Aziraphale's voice was suddenly getting closer, gradually, bringing Crowley's full attention back. He could hear him better now, could actually hear every word he said. "Yes, as I've said... it might look a mess, but things are organized. The only autobiographies I have are in that section that you've already looked through." A pause. "I do update the stock every once in a while, but you must understand that I mostly deal in older books." Another pause. "Yes, well... perhaps that would be for the best." It was clear his patience was wearing thin, and it made Crowley laugh again. "I'm absolutely certain. Do have a nice day, now."  
  
The bell dinged again in the distance, announcing the customer's exit, and the demon heard Aziraphale sigh very heavily as he approached the phone properly, which did absolutely nothing to help him stop laughing, in the slightest. Even as he tried to suppress it. "My dear boy." the angel interjected, between the sounds, clearly exasperated. "Just what is so funny?"  
  
"Nothing, nothing." Crowley replied, trying to calm down, but ending up being consumed by another burst of laughter as he pictured what Aziraphale had looked like while he was saying those things, and what he probably looked like now. "Ah, fuck..." He snorted, turning his face into the pillow again and closing his eyes. That was what did the trick to finally bring him back down. "I, uh. I could hear you, toward the end there." He told him, after a time, the smile on his face and his amusement still evident in his voice.  
  
"That's just about how my day has been going. Nearly every interaction has been like that. They've all been quite a thorn in my side today in particular, for some reason." He sighed, and Crowley could practically hear him pinching at the skin between his eyebrows. "I'm glad you called. Talking to you is many orders of magnitude preferable to dealing with _that._"  
  
"Well, obviously! I'm almost offended you've even put that on the table as a possibility in the first place. I'm better by default."  
  
Aziraphale's laughter rolled over him. "Of course you are, sweetest."  
  
Every once in a while, as they were talking, Crowley had heard a hard but dull thump in the background. It had been confusing him the entire time, and he'd been about to ask what the noise was when it dawned on him; it was the sound of a ceramic mug hitting the desk. Probably that gaudy white one with angel wings. Aziraphale liked to drink cocoa while he worked, and especially out of that mug. He could almost see him, sat there in his chair, gradually drinking down the hot liquid while they spoke with each other. This image of him in Crowley's mind's eye was wearing his glasses, too, of course. For added effect.  
  
Then he heard two very distinct plastic clicks, then a different thump. The sound of the glasses arms folding, and being placed on the desk._ Shit,_ so he _had_ been wearing them? The thought put that familiar fondness into Crowley's heart. "Were you... uh. Wearing your glasses?"  
  
"Hm? Oh, yes. I just took them off. I usually wear them when I'm here."  
  
"Ahh, shit. You're honestly too fucking cute when you wear 'em." The sigh he let out was filled with far too much longing for his liking. "Damn it, now I can't stop thinking about that."  
  
"Poor thing. What a hard life you live." Aziraphale cooed sarcastically, giggling at the indignant sound Crowley gave him in response. "While you do that, I'm going to go and get a refill, love."  
  
Before Crowley could actually say anything in return, he heard the creak of the old chair as Aziraphale stood up, and then his steps that gradually became softer with the increased distance from the phone.  
He tapped his fingers against the mattress while he waited, impatient. The angel just needed to get into the current century, for Somebody's sake. At least get a fucking cordless phone. Or...  
  
Once he heard the mug hit the desk again, Crowley spoke up, voicing the idea that had just come to him. "You need a goddamn cell phone already. I wanna buy you one."  
  
"What?"  
  
Crowley snorted. "I know you heard me. I said I wanna get you a mobile. Will you take it, if I do?"  
  
"Oh, my dear. You know I wouldn't know the _first thing_ about using one."  
  
Crowley gave the darkened phone screen the flattest look he had in him, doing his best to send the vibe through to Aziraphale. "'S what you have me for, isn't it? I'll teach you."  
  
There was a pause, and Crowley was about to check the phone to make sure the call hadn't dropped when Aziraphale spoke back up. "That's a fine enough solution, I suppose. But, if I might ask, _why_ do you want me to have one so badly?"  
  
The question caught Crowley off guard, but he quickly recovered. "Nobody has a fucking _rotary phone_ anymore, Aziraphale. You see 'em in museums these days. I'm sort of amazed it still works on the landline network."  
  
"Yes, well. I take pride in my antiques, as you know. And... it really is quite a miraculous little contraption." Crowley could hear that haughty, slightly offended expression in Aziraphale's voice, and it made him grin.  
  
"You absolute bastard. I should've known."  
  
He could practically feel that Aziraphale was wearing a grin, too, after that. "Just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing, my love."  
  
"Exactly!" Crowley hummed thoughtfully, eyes randomly wandering his surroundings in the bedroom. As they crossed the bookcase, he had another idea to pitch the phone concept to the blonde. "Y'know, you could also move around and actually do stuff while talking if you had a mobile. You'd be able to talk to me, and... I dunno, catalogue your books. Reorganize 'em. Whatever the Heaven it is you do all day when you aren't trying to shoo humans out."  
  
"Quips aside, you make a valid point, my dear." He said, and Crowley thought he was in the clear until the angel took a breath and continued. "But, come now, are you actually going to tell me the _real_ reason?"  
  
"Agh. Well, those _were_ real reasons." He protested, but ended up conceding, as he was well aware Aziraphale had easily seen through him. There _was_ a bigger reason, behind those. "It's nothing crazy. I just... I'd like to know I'm able to reach you, wherever you are. You're not always gonna be able to get to that phone, y'know? Or the other one. You're not always gonna be in..." He stopped, reconsidering his wording after he felt his chest lurch painfully at the flash of a memory, that receiver hanging limply by its cord and strewn across the floor when he entered the burning shop. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, counting to four in his head. Approximately twelve seconds later, he answered. "Sometimes you'll be... uh, out. As in, not_ there._"  
  
Aziraphale noticed the telltale signs, but purposely didn't draw attention to any of it. "Where else would I be? The drive is short."  
  
_Yeah, but something could happen._ Crowley thought, but didn't say, continuing to do his repetitions. He knew Aziraphale knew what he was doing. He had to know. There was no way he _didn't_ know, with how precise the intervals were. But even so, he tried to keep it low-key and quiet. Not to _hide_ it from him, but... maybe to help normalize it a bit more, to not bring attention to it and to cement it as something that was just part of life for him now. It seemed wise to try to do that. "There's other reasons, too."  
  
Aziraphale let him change the subject without calling him out, mostly because curiosity had grabbed him. "Such as?"  
  
Having been on guard for the opposite result, Crowley's tongue nearly tripped over itself in his haste to switch gears and answer him. "You can, uh... make video calls with the tech that's out these days. Been out a while, actually. It's quite something. A lot of the humans use that stuff more than they use the regular phone functions now."  
  
"So... you'd be able to see me, while you're speaking to me? There's a camera on the device that would record me?"   
  
The angel's voice sounded wary, now, so Crowley continued to move quickly to keep him interested. "Mm-mm. Not _record_ you. It'd stream a live image of you to me. With a bit of delay... but that's improving all the time."  
  
"I'm afraid I don't quite understand the difference, love."  
  
"'S alright. The whole thing's a bit complicated to explain to an old fashioned angel." Crowley laughed. "The important thing you need to know is I'd be able to see you... and not only that, but _you'd_ be able to see _me_, too."  
  
The innuendo dripping off of Crowley's point suddenly hit Aziraphale like a brick to the head. "Are you, perhaps, implying something?"  
  
Crowley feigned innocence, at first. "Hm? Like what?"   
  
"That you... you'd want to..."  
  
Crowley grinned, knowing for sure that he'd hooked him. "I'm listening, Angel."  
  
"You'd, er... that is to say, you'd want to... be intimate, through the video? When I'm away." The demon thought if he focused enough of his attention on it, he probably could've felt the warmth of Aziraphale's cheeks through the phone. It made him smile. When it came to matters of a physical nature, they'd both made some progress (in Crowley's case quite significant progress, he never would've had it in him to bring this up before), but it was always a joy to find out what still managed embarrass the angel, as he'd always been the more level-headed of the two about the subject.  
  
"Possibly, sometimes. 'S also something the humans do with it. What d'you think? Is that offensive to you?"  
  
"The idea itself is odd, I'll admit." Aziraphale hummed to himself, briefly considering what else technology could do in this time period that he had no knowledge of. "_Odd,_ but not _offensive._" He added, before Crowley had a chance to start walking it back. "I find it difficult to believe I'd be completely alright with not being able to touch you, though."  
  
"It'd be a stopgap, 's all. To, uh... get by 'til you're back, if need be. You could touch me all you wanted after you got home. 'Sides, the point of the whole thing is that it's a bit different. Just there to add a little spice, y'know? That's how it'd be for us, anyway. We live together. Think most people that do that are doing it 'cause they can't see each other in person."  
  
"To add spice? You'd like some variety, then." That wrinkle was there, in the middle of his forehead, as he was speaking. Crowley was sure of it.  
  
"Nah, it's not like that. Don't need anything different. Believe me... I love the way you, uh... make love." The instant the words cleared his lips, a deep heat filled his face as the blood rushed into his cheeks. He was sort of glad Aziraphale couldn't see him, as he'd surely tease him for his embarrassment at using the phrase. He'd respond to it well enough, but actually using it himself was another matter. He cleared his throat, shoving his arms under the pillow and hiding half of his face anyway, waiting to calm down again. "It could be considered plain, maybe, but that's what I like. It's far from boring. You're so good at what you do, Angel. Think I'd stay in bed with you til the end of time."  
  
"Oh, you absolute flatterer." Aziraphale huffed out a laugh, and when he resumed speaking his tone was decidedly fonder than it had been the moment previous. That was impressive, because he'd already been speaking pretty softly before. "I'm glad you enjoy me so much. I'll never tire of hearing that."  
  
Just when he thought he was safe, Crowley's cheeks flooded with warmth again, knowing how much he'd pleased his partner by telling him all of that. "Anyway, er... it's just an idea, in the end. Me getting you a phone isn't conditional on that. We've never gotta do that if you don't want to."  
  
"Yes, well... I'm fairly amenable to the idea to begin with, I think. So... perhaps we'll do that, sometime."   
  
"Hah. Yeah. Perhaps we will."  
  
Another strange sound came from the background, then. It sounded like it was coming from some rubber? Maybe a soft plastic? Pretty close by, too.  
  
He almost had another laughing fit when he realized what that sound was. Aziraphale was twirling the phone cord around his finger like a teenage girl would. Another wave of affection hit him, and he sincerely hoped he'd get to see the blonde again soon, because he felt like he was gonna explode from having that pent up inside him.  
  
Suddenly the angel gasped, and simultaneously sat up in the chair, by the sounds of things. "Goodness, would you look at the time! We've been talking for two hours. It hasn't felt like that long."  
  
Crowley tapped his phone, waking up the screen to confirm that it was indeed true. "Time flies when you're having fun, eh?"  
  
"Indeed. Seeing that no one else has come, I think I'll go ahead and close up, after all."  
  
"Well, I'll be glad to see you. Won't pretend otherwise. Not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth, 'n all. I just... wanna make sure it really is your idea."  
  
There was a staticky snap on the other end of the line, presumably Aziraphale closing the blinds and locking the door to prevent any pesky, straggling customers from walking in while he got ready to go home for the day. "Oh... trust me, love, it is. The longer we spend on the phone, the worse it's getting. This need bubbling up inside of me to come home and shower affection on you, that is."  
  
"Huh. That's quite a coincidence, since I've been spending... oh, I dunno, at least 30 minutes feeling the same way. I might burst. If you think for one second I'm not gonna cuddle the absolute fuck out of you when you get home... well, mister A.Z. Fell, you're wrong."  
  
Aziraphale gave him an exaggerated gasp in return. "Oh, my. What an absolutely terrifying threat! I think I'd best hurry, then."  
  
"You better be scared! 'M downright vicious." Crowley tried to say, with a growl, but ended up bursting with laughter once more. "Ah, but, seriously. I just didn't wanna pressure you, y'know. You should always come home when you're ready. I'll live, yeah?"  
  
"Dearheart, I _know_ you want to see me, too. You wouldn't say so earlier, and I know why, but I can tell. You're _allowed to,_ you know. Want to see me. It's true that I've only been away from home for a scant few hours, but missing me isn't off limits. You can always say so, Crowley. Perhaps it's awfully self indulgent of me, but in fact I find it to be rather endearing to think about. It's just a little bonus I have in mind to put a pep in my step and get my behind in gear, here."  
  
Crowley laughed. "Alright, then."  
  
There were more rustling sounds on the line, and if Crowley really concentrated he thought he could identify them as being created in the course of Aziraphale pulling on his jacket. "I'm going to pick up some takeaway from the Indian restaurant down the block, on my way back. Would you like me to get you a curry?"  
  
"Yeah. Sounds good. I don't care which one, you pick."  
  
"Right. I'll be home in two shakes of a lamb's tail, then." Aziraphale's pleased smile was quite evident in his tone. It always made him happy when he could get Crowley to agree to eat with him.   
  
"Okay. See you soon. Love you."  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
_Click._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thought it would be interesting to have Crowley having one of those random 'off' days. It kicked his ass just enough to finally use the out Aziraphale gave him at the beginning and also gave me an excuse to write The Cute Content that I needed to write this week so I really hope y'all like it :)
> 
> They've become so domestic and I love them and the whole dynamic and that is all I have to say about that  
As the idea formed I really wanted to see if I could push myself to write an entire chapter out of a phone call... and apparently the answer is yes which I am very pleased with lmfao
> 
> I've also decided after the first time it was mentioned that the 'stupid show' is The Good Place. I haven't gotten to watch it yet (I hope to start soon), but from everything I've read about it, it really seems like it fits the bill for a show my Crowley would like and very vehemently resist admitting that he likes
> 
> It's starting to feel like I'm a mad scientist that just comes up with experiments on a whim to fill this fic with but I'm glad you guys seem to be liking them so far. I've already added multiple chapters that weren't in my original plan and I reckon that trend will probably continue because even when it's a pain in my ass I really have fun with this fic and I enjoy writing it very much xD
> 
> There *is* an important chapter coming up soon (which I've been working on for a while off and on), but I think I might need another chapter or two of buffer before it makes more sense in the narrative. I'll see what I end up deciding I suppose. Just thought I'd mention it :P


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was half past 6pm, and Crowley was getting restless. The box he held contained the mobile he'd gotten for Aziraphale. He'd ordered it the same day he'd first asked about doing so, and it had taken an absolutely agonizing four days to arrive at the flat. He could've miracled it along, but he was stubborn, and the anticipation that waiting for it created in him had felt pretty nice, too.

Crowley sat on the sofa with a relatively small box in his lap, waiting (with a patience that he was very quickly losing) for Aziraphale to return home from his work day. With words that were nearly as vague as the long winded sign hung outside his shop, he hadn't given a time today, he'd simply said he'd come back in the early evening. It was half past 6pm, and Crowley was getting restless. The box he held contained the mobile he'd gotten for Aziraphale. He'd ordered it the same day he'd first asked about doing so, and it had taken an absolutely agonizing four days to arrive at the flat. He could've miracled it along, but he was stubborn, and the anticipation that waiting for it created in him had felt pretty nice, too.  
  
The anticipation he was _currently_ feeling _wasn't_ quite so nice. It had definitely twisted over to impatience more than anticipation at this point. He wanted the angel to come back already so he could get his kicks watching him try to make heads or tails out of this little computer Crowley was putting in his pocket. He was going to help, of course, but a chance to see Aziraphale truly confused was a rarity.  
  
He knew he could call again, to speed the process along, but he still didn't want to do that. He _especially_ didn't want to do that now that he knew how easily it could work. He wanted Aziraphale to do things in his own time, and he wouldn't make a nuisance out of himself by continually bringing him home early. He didn't want the calls to become a habit, either. It had been nice, and the angel would probably never mind, but Crowley thought there was little point in him going out if they still ended up talking all day every day.  
  
While he might've been planning to sometimes use it for nefarious purposes, the mobile's primary role here was... well, insurance. It had been a damn sight easier to sell than the _last thing_ he'd asked for as insurance, that was for sure.  
  
While he was in the middle of thinking about that, Aziraphale suddenly came through the door, the handles of a paper bag looped over his wrist. "Well, that's quite a sight to come home to." He said, smiling as he approached Crowley, leaning down to peck his forehead before placing his bag on the floor near the arm of the sofa on the empty side. He gave a pleased sigh as he dropped down onto the cushion, clearly glad to be off his feet.  
  
Crowley took in the display with a vague curiosity, shown in the slight tilt of his head as he gave Aziraphale a once over. "Were you busy today?"  
  
_"Very._ It felt like half of London came through around lunch."  
  
"Oh yeah? Get rid of anything, then?" He asked, almost as an afterthought. He already knew what the answer was going to be, after all. Even if there was a crowd, it wouldn't matter.  
  
"Just one."  
  
Crowley nearly fell off the sofa. "Really! What was it?"  
  
Aziraphale shrugged. "A history book about the fall of the Roman Empire. I wasn't particularly sad to see that one go. It'd be easy enough to procure again if I should have need of it in the future to complete some collection or other."  
  
Crowley's trademark eyebrow quirk appeared. "What kind of person bought that?"  
  
"I didn't say I _sold_ it, my dear." In response to the confused furrow of Crowley's brow, he added on "That isn't what you asked."  
  
"Huh? What d'you mean?"  
  
"A sweet young lady had need of it as a supplementary material for her university coursework. She inquired about the price and was very crestfallen when I informed her what I was asking for it. Not that it matters, since I very much discourage buying, but I do still always price my books fairly. That said, students don't usually have a lot of money, you know. She was going to leave without it, but I told her she could just take it."  
  
"So, you..." The approaching laughter was evident in Crowley's tone. It hadn't emerged yet, but it was only a matter of time. His face was barely remaining neutral.  
  
Aziraphale sighed, already very acutely aware of exactly why he was so amused. "I _gave it away,_ yes." He said, finally giving voice to the thing they were both thinking.  
  
Crowley burst out laughing upon hearing it said aloud, and it didn't take Aziraphale long to crack and follow him. The cackle and the giggle they were emitting were quite an odd match when put together, but that was just par for the course when it came to the two of them, wasn't it?  
  
The demon sighed after a while, lifting his hand to wipe the tiny droplets of laughing tears from the corner of his eyes. "Ah, shit. Sorry, Angel. Couldn't resist."  
  
Aziraphale was looking at him quite fondly for someone that was supposed to have been slighted in some way, though. "Oh, it's not like that's the first time for either of us, darling. It's quite fortunate that we both enjoy those jokes."  
  
"Long life means a lot of history, you'd have to learn to at least tolerate 'em after a while or you'd have a bad time. More fun like this, though." He smiled, leaning over to nudge Aziraphale playfully. After a beat, he remembered. "So what's in the bag?"  
  
"Hm? Oh. I grabbed some fish and chips on the way back. I got extra chips in case you wanted some."  
  
Crowley couldn't help barking out some more laughter. "Oh, so I'm the hungry girlfriend, am I?"  
  
Aziraphale just looked at him, and he got to witness that confused expression he'd been waiting all day for, a little earlier than he'd expected. "I don't understand."  
  
"Ah, yeah. You wouldn't. 'S an internet thing. Apparently human girls like to say they're not hungry when they're asked but then they eat their partner's food. Enough of 'em do that for it to be a running gag on the internet. Some people joke about buying extra chips to prep for that happening."  
  
"I see." Aziraphale smiled, leaning over to pull the box of food out from the bag and bring it up onto the seat next to him.  
  
"I'd wear the badge with pride, 'course. I'll be the hungry girlfriend for you, easy." Crowley laughed, slipping an arm around Aziraphale's shoulders. "Sweet of you to think of me. You do it all the time, but I'm prob'ly never gonna get over it. Even when it's small stuff like this. Shit, maybe _especially_ when it's stuff like this."  
  
"Perhaps it'll be nicer if you don't manage. I can tell how happy it makes you, and you're always so grateful for it. It would be a shame for that to be dulled."  
  
"Yeah. 'S nice, y'know?" Not that he was trying hard to get over it before, but he definitely wouldn't now. "By the way, uh... this is your mobile. It came today." He said, finally opening the box to take the device out.  
  
He handed the phone over to Aziraphale, watching him take it into his grip as gingerly as he would one of his antiques. "Ah."  
  
"Try turning it on. Hold down the little button on the right side. This one." He said, briefly touching the correct spot as he indicated it to Aziraphale. "Phone might vibrate a bit as it comes on, so you're aware."  
  
Aziraphale's brow furrowed as he looked at his reflection in the black screen. "It's ready to just... turn on? Now? I don't need to do anything with it first?"  
  
"Yeah. It's fine. Go ahead."  
  
The device was fully charged fresh out of the box, naturally, because that just made sense. No need to wait _even more_. Of course, that was very deliberately ignoring the fact that it had been delivered in the morning, shortly after Aziraphale had gone out, so that meant Crowley had ample time to charge it up the normal way during the day and had just chosen not to. The phone booted fairly quickly, and straight into the home screen. Initial setup was an awful chore that had no use here, so obviously that could just be skipped. Again, no need to wait more.  
  
"This is called your home screen. You'll be looking at this a lot when you use your phone. You can change what's on it, as in which app shortcuts you have on the page, if you want to. The app shortcuts are those little buttons on the screen. You tap on 'em and it takes you into your apps so you don't have to go all the way into your app tray every time you wanna use something. We'll figure that out later. For now just try to move through the menus a bit. Try to get a feel for it."  
  
"Alright." Aziraphale hummed, then picked up a chip with his other hand and held it up, offering it to Crowley as the demon rested his chin on him, looking over his shoulder at the screen. He ate it without comment, watching his angel clumsily try to navigate through the interface of the phone as he'd been told.  
  
"There's a voice assistant on these models, too. She's called Siri. You can ask her stuff, she can set reminders for you... she does all kinds of stuff, honestly. Had her call you, the night Adam was born. Couldn't get through, 'course... but I'd forgot. She's even kinda funny sometimes. She can give some cute responses to things you wouldn't even think she could. You'll like it. Here, watch." He leaned in, looking at the phone screen. "Oi, Siri."  
  
In response, the phone chirped a happy little _'beep beep'._  
  
Without hesitation, Crowley asked her "Is Winter coming?"  
  
An equal lack of hesitation preceded the answer, and the assistant's voice came out from the speakers immediately. _"Does a Lannister always pay his debts?"_  
  
Crowley grinned, watching Aziraphale's eyes light up. Upon seeing the wonder forming there, he decided to show him more. "Hey, Siri."  
  
_Beep beep._  
  
"D'you watch Game of Thrones?"  
  
_"Who, me? Siri, First of the Name, Siri Siliconborn of House Apple, Ruler of the Alarms and the Reminders, Guardian of the Calendar Appointments, Keeper of the Ontologies, Flipper of Coins. Yes, I am watching._"  
  
A sweet sound emitted from Aziraphale. "Oh, you're right. I love it. That is the _cutest_ thing."  
  
"Oi, oi. Don't fall in love _too _fast there, Angel! _I'm_ the cutest thing."  
  
"Don't get jealous of a computer program, dear. Of course you're the _actual_ cutest thing."  
  
Crowley wanted to correct him and say Siri wasn't a computer program, but... really, he wasn't _completely_ wrong. So he opted to respond to the other part of what Aziraphale had said instead. "Damn straight. Don't forget again!" He huffed, crossing his arms in a totally over the top display of pouting that only lasted a few seconds before he cracked again. "Let's try out your camera. Want to?"  
  
Aziraphale looked through the rows of icons, looking for it. "Camera. There's a camera?"  
  
Crowley looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Uh, yeah."  
  
The angel glanced up, then immediately remembered._ "Oh!_ That's right, you told me about this..." The dust of red from that day promptly returned to his cheeks as he thought about precisely _what_ Crowley had said to him.  
  
It was a fact that the demon took note of and was quite amused by, but decided not to tease him about at the moment. All in due time. He'd get too distracted otherwise, and that would be a shame, as he'd been waiting all day for this lesson. "Actually, there's two cameras. One on the back and one on the screen side."  
  
Aziraphale looked at the device again, turning it from front to back. "Oh?"  
  
"Yeah. One on the back's a camera like you'd be used to, for taking photos of other stuff. One on the screen side's for taking photos of yourself. They're called selfies. I invented 'em." He gave a lazy grin.  
  
"You did?"  
  
"Yep. 'S one of the things I dropped in the last decade or so to get old people fighting with young people." He twisted his face into a scowl, putting on an exaggerated voice that was supposed to sound like an elderly human. _"'These kids today are so vain. If they'd stop taking pictures of themselves for 10 seconds and go get a job..._'" Aziraphale was clearly amused by his acting, which made him puff up a bit, proud of himself. "Modern day methods of fomenting."  
  
"You absolutely _devious_ creature. How did the Earth ever survive your dastardly plans?"  
  
"Dunno. Maybe 'cause there was a lot of well timed thwarting going on. Now 'm retired though, so guess it's safe for good."  
  
Aziraphale huffed out a laugh, unable to stop himself. _"Retired?_ Is that what we're calling it?"  
  
Crowley just looked at him and shrugged. "I mean... if you think about it, is it a lie?"  
  
"No, I suppose not." There was a pause, and then Aziraphale's expression turned shy. "So... you wanted to test out the camera, then? While we're in the same room? Wouldn't it be better to wait until I'm out?"  
  
Crowley laughed. "Didn't mean test it like _that._ Someone's mind's in the gutter tonight! Might have to do something about that later. But... really, _later._ Busy right now." He hummed, reaching over to gently pluck the phone from Aziraphale's hand. "I just wanted to see how it does with taking photos."  
  
"Oh. _Oh..._ right. The main function of a camera, of course."  
  
The amusement was still dancing quite blatantly in Crowley's eyes. "Yeah. I looked up some settings that work well for your camera earlier. I'm gonna fiddle with it a bit if that's okay with you."  
  
"Of course, darling. You know best."  
  
The remark made Crowley grin, and he leaned into Aziraphale as he changed the settings from memory to match what he'd read about earlier. When he'd finished, he backed out until the actual camera displayed again. "'M gonna take a photo of you to test it."  
  
"Ah, right."  
  
Crowley counted down from three, and then snapped the photo. When he looked at the result, he felt his heart soar. He couldn't stop staring at it. Short of having his glasses on, he'd captured Aziraphale at his absolute cutest. Cheeks still slightly pink from his lingering embarrassment, and that small, soft smile gracing his mouth.  
  
Aziraphale looked at him expectantly. "Well?"  
  
Crowley didn't answer at first. It took him longer than it normally would have to recognize that Aziraphale was talking to him, and what he'd said. Pulling his eyes from the screen was difficult, but he managed in the end. "Well what?"  
  
"Did it work?"  
  
"Yeah. Here, look." He said, turning the screen 'round to show Aziraphale the photo he'd taken of him.  
  
The angel's reaction wasn't what he was hoping for, though. His shyness came roaring back in full force. Actually, it got even worse, and he waved his hand in front of his face, refusing to look at the picture for longer than a second. "Oh... erase it, won't you? I look silly."  
  
Crowley shook his head. "You look _cute._ But, if you really don't want it on here, I'll get rid of it for you. And it's called_ '_deleting', Aziraphale. Not _erasing."_  
  
"But those two words both mean the same thing."  
  
Crowley snorted. He could see his point, but it still sounded ridiculous. He navigated to Aziraphale's contacts, tapping on his own name (the only entry there aside from the pre-programmed numbers from the provider that he hadn't tossed out yet) and quickly sent the photo over to his own phone, then deleted the angel's copies of both the message and the photo before stretching over to hand it back to him. He sat back casually, after, as if nothing had ever happened. He felt quite pleased with himself, actually. He couldn't abide losing such a precious photo, and Aziraphale would be none the wiser.  
  
"Modern photography has certainly come a long way, I have to say."  
  
"You don't even know the half of it, Angel. This is just a phone camera, too. Good as they can be, they've still got nothing on _actual_ cameras. Those are crazy now." Maybe he'd have to buy one of those too, actually. Blow Aziraphale's mind even further with how far the humans had come.  
  
"I can only imagine."  
  
"Think we've done enough for now, though. Don't wanna overwhelm you."  
  
"Alright." Having their roles reversed was a treat for Aziraphale, honestly. Getting to see Crowley be the one to take on the role of guidance, and all that. It was nice. He'd learned more from the angel than it seemed, as well. He was treating this with the same general method as Aziraphale had been treating their mind healing sessions. Not too much at once.  
  
"Got anything in mind for the rest of the evening?"  
  
Aziraphale ate another few chips, and then banished the box to the kitchen and looked up at Crowley again. "I believe you mentioned having a cure for my mind being in the gutter."  
  
"Yeah... I do. But we'll play later, hm? Was thinking about something a bit less active for now. First I wanna see you rest. You had a busy day."  
  
Tired as he still felt, Aziraphale had no inclination whatsoever to object. "Alright."  
  
Crowley rose, reaching down to put his hand into Aziraphale's and tug at him. "Let's go lay in bed a while. You'll read to me, won't you?"  
  
As he stood to join Crowley, the angel smiled at him. "Of course I will, darling." Reading to Crowley had become one of his favorite activities, and it was clear to tell that his demon was enjoying it a lot too, due to the frequency at which he'd been asking for it lately.  
  
Crowley glanced back at him as they walked down the hall, an idea showing in his eyes. "Oh yeah... that's another thing we should look at putting on your phone. You know about digital book apps?"  
  
"I've heard tell of them once or twice, yes. I have no experience with them, of course."  
  
Crowley briefly fiddled with his phone, then dropped it onto the side table on his way by, letting go of Aziraphale to climb into bed. "I feel like you're one of those people who'd prefer a book in your hand, but you still might like it anyway. I'll get that all set up for you later."  
  
His Principality joined him, sliding under the blanket beside him after grabbing the book from its spot in the bookcase and placing his phone beside Crowley's so gently that it didn't even make a sound when it touched the wood. "At your convenience, my love. I shall be most grateful. I'm intrigued about the concept."  
  
"We'll look into it together. Who knows, maybe it'll even get me to read, too. Might be easier for me. Never really got along well with books." The fact that he got along even worse with them since Armageddon didn't need to be stated.  
  
"You know you hate it, but you keep trying to understand my interest anyway. You really _do_ love me, don't you."  
  
Crowley had the sense about him to look offended, but that put on look quickly melted to something stupidly soft, starting from around his eyes. "Obvious, innit?"  
  
"By this point I would have to have quite a few of my senses removed to miss it, my dear." Aziraphale smiled, watching Crowley settle comfortably beside him. "Even if you never find an equal love for reading, you'll always have me. I'm always willing."   
  
"Never gonna get tired of you reading to me, either."  
  
"Mm. Your words are music to my ears, sweetest."  
  
With that said, he placed the open book into his lap and began to read aloud, one hand turning the pages while the other fondly stroked through Crowley's hair, occasionally giving his scalp a little scratch. He looked over once he'd finished the chapter, a mere 10 to 15 minutes later, and the demon was out like a light, curled closely to his side.  
  
Crowley's phone, slung so carelessly beside his own, suddenly lit up on the other side of him and caught his attention. He set the book aside and sat up slightly, careful not to wake the other. On the screen was a nicely composed shot of the Bentley, and the sight of it made him smile. _This_ was so Crowley. It seemed that he'd finally forgiven his old partner in crime for its perceived transgressions.  
  
His eyes trailed down, past the clock in the center of the screen, and to the box that had popped up. Said box contained a small picture of an envelope, red lines up the side and over the V of the flap. The text that appeared next to it said only '1 new mail'.  
  
For a moment he wondered if he should even touch the thing. Crowley's phone was a different model, and an older one. Worried he might break something if he tried to handle its use in the exact same way as his own phone, but still curious of the difference between them, Aziraphale decided he'd use this as a learning exercise and attempt to investigate into what the notification was about (_carefully,_ so that he didn't accidentally delete it) so that he could tell Crowley about it when he woke.  
  
The screen had dimmed in preparation to turn itself off again by the time he'd decided, but he woke it back up with a quick but cautious press of his thumb on an empty area. He looked to the bottom and saw the text: _Slide to unlock._ So he did, moving his thumb's position on the screen and gradually using the context clues of the arrow and the animation of the text to figure out what it actually meant by 'slide'.  
  
When he'd completed the motion and the contents of the screen had flung themselves to the side, he had a slight moment of panic thinking he'd done something wrong.   
  
Distraction came for him right after that, though, and he wasn't at all prepared for what he found once the photo of the Bentley had disappeared from view. It made him quite promptly forget the entire reason why he had picked up the phone in the first place. It had instantly become inconsequential.  
  
This time his shock wasn't from anything the phone itself had done. Staring him in the face, set as the background image of the device, was that photo Crowley had taken of him on his new phone when he was demonstrating how the camera worked. The photo that he'd gotten embarrassed of, said was silly, and made him get rid of. He didn't know how it had come to be _here,_ how he'd gotten hold of it, exactly... he hadn't a good grip on how all of that worked yet, but he _did_ understand that Crowley had somehow rescued it from total destruction. Not only that, but he'd liked it so much that he already decided he wanted to look at it every time he used his phone.  
  
The significance struck Aziraphale rather quickly, in a way that he immediately understood; this was the modern day equivalent of carrying a loved one's photo in a locket around your neck. _"Oh,_ you absolute _romantic._" His heart swelled with love and fluttered in his chest as he looked over the top of the phone at his sleeping lover, letting his fingers flow through that flame of copper hair again. "I adore you. You know that, don't you? You are my entire heart and soul."  
  
In the exact same moment, Crowley smiled in his sleep, and if Aziraphale didn't know better he'd say it nearly made him discorporate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi I apparently wasn't done writing Cute Content quite yet so while I did definitely say I would use the fluff sparingly... I'm sure you'll all forgive me right? :P  
'I'll teach you' seemed better shown than simply implied because hello they are _cute_  
There is more angst lurking in our future so perhaps I'm just priming us for it
> 
> Phone details for people who like that shit: Crowley has an iPhone 8 Plus and he got Aziraphale an iPhone XR because only the newest shit for Angel (It was a conscious and deliberate choice to not use the iPhone 11 because in this house we REALLY don't fuck with it and its cameras. Can't even stand to write that shit into a fic. I have the trypophobia response and get very deeply disgusted when I look at a cluster of holes or something with the appearance of that like those cameras. Fuck Apple for that fr)
> 
> I've never owned an iPhone so of course naturally I would have them both over here with iPhones!!! I like to make my life difficult sometimes! But supposedly iPhones are more user friendly which is good if true because this poor thing needs all the help he can get  
And yes despite my ignorance I do know that slide to unlock isn't a thing anymore but we are talking about a supernatural being with literal magic at his fingertips who has also crashed an entire mobile network at least once... I think he can manage to make an old OS feature work for him if for no other reason than because he's a stubborn shit that liked it better the old way lmfao


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _A.Z. Fell & Co._
> 
> The familiar typeset was staring Crowley in the face.
> 
> He was standing there, he'd _been_ standing there for who knew how long now. In front of the bookshop. In front of the arch. His feet were planted at the very edge of the curb; another inch backward and he'd fall into the street. Something in him was (and had been) afraid to get any closer than that.
> 
> _I wanna try_, he'd said. So, here he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been warning of this for a couple of weeks... now it's here. It is time. The angst bomb has arrived. Batten down your feels, because they're about to go on a ride lmfao

_A.Z. Fell & Co.  
_  
The familiar typeset was staring Crowley in the face.  
  
He was standing there, he'd _been_ standing there for who knew how long now. In front of the bookshop. In front of the arch. His feet were planted at the very edge of the curb; another inch backward and he'd fall into the street. Something in him was (and had been) afraid to get any closer than that.  
  
_I wanna try_, he'd said. So, here he was.   
  
Here _they_ were.  
  
Aziraphale dutifully stood beside him, holding his hand. Watching him closely.  
  
He didn't notice any of that at the moment, though. Not _really_. He couldn't.  
  
His own eyes had been locked on that window for a good while. The one that had blown out as he drove past it. The origin of that fire ball that haunted his nightmares. He kept hearing the sound, over and over, as he looked there. The longer he looked, the more frequent the replay seemed to get. The explosion itself; loud and clear even against the falling rain, the sound of the car's engine, and the blaring of that fucking song... and the sound of the glass, shattering like nothing, hitting the concrete.  
  
He still didn't know why that seconds long loop, of all things, was what kept chasing after him.  
  
Aziraphale squeezed his hand, pulling him back to the ground again, and he jumped.   
  
His gaze shifted away from the window pane, finally, to look at the dark wood doors instead. The last time he'd been standing in front of these doors, they'd been completely enveloped in fire.  
  
The thought; that vision of inflamed wood, brief as it was, led to a memory of flames and smoke pouring out of the windows and put that tremor back into his hand. The shake was just enough for Aziraphale to feel it before Crowley had mindlessly reached over with his other hand, an automatic impulse, and grabbed his wrist, trying to get it to stop. But it didn't stop completely like it had in the pub, as his thoughts were still elsewhere.  
  
"Are you sure you're alright to go in, my dear? You don't have to."  
  
"Yeah... yeah, I'm fine. I can do it."  
  
Aziraphale looked at him for a long moment, assessing. Trying to get a read on him. Something in him was saying he should stop this, but... was he wrong? This could be a breakthrough for Crowley. If his error in judgement stopped that from happening, it might set his recovery back. Who knew how long it would take for the chance to appear again? One couldn't predict these things.  
  
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and sighed it out. "Alright." It would be okay. Crowley was strong, and he'd learned a lot. Whether it was enough to help him with this... Aziraphale wasn't quite certain. It felt a bit too much like diving in at the deep end, like they were missing some steps in between. But even if it went wrong, he could fix it. He was sure he could. He'd done it before.  
  
He moved up the stairs and slowly opened the door. He'd thought to step aside and let Crowley enter first, but the bigger part of him, perhaps irrationally, forced him to remain in front. Like he was protecting Crowley from a horrid monster.  
  
He wasn't far off, really.  
  
Crowley's first steps into the shop were full of trepidation. He kept to Aziraphale's path, although on unsteady legs. He was seeing it all just fine. Everything was restored. It looked the same as it had when he'd come to check on it disguised as Aziraphale.  
  
That latent fear hadn't yet awoken in him at that point, though. The adrenaline of the whole situation, the anxiety he felt about executing the plan they'd crafted together had blocked it out until everything was over. It had just been one thing after another, that week.  
  
He wasn't inside the building for very long at all before something started to feel _off_. He could _see_ that it was fine, but it didn't _feel_ fine. The two things weren't connecting in his head.  
  
It made sense to him, the idea that he wouldn't be totally calm in this situation, but buying that at face value and brushing it all off was his first mistake. It would turn out to be his _worst_ mistake.  
  
At first it was _just_ the feeling, something he thought he could fairly successfully push away. It was just a general unease settling in, as he followed Aziraphale deeper into the shop, saw the sight of the angel's blonde head among the books. It was such a natural sight, something he'd seen thousands of times over. This had been his home for centuries. Aziraphale and books, Aziraphale and his shop were synonymous with each other. And yet...  
  
And yet it still felt so wrong, somehow.  
  
They'd come to sit in that little nook they frequented when Crowley would come here in the past. The same place they'd made the initial agreement to attempt thwarting Armageddon together. He was on the sofa, Aziraphale was in his desk chair, just like that night.  
  
Aziraphale was talking to him. It had been a conversation for a while. He'd been participating. Now he was looking right at him, saw his mouth still moving sure enough, but his voice was fading out, like someone had found the volume slider on Crowley's ears and had gradually ratcheted it down to nothing. He couldn't hear _him_ anymore. All he _could_ hear was a dull roar rising in his ears. _That_ was the start of something much worse.  
  
He felt it building, and to his credit, he _did_ catch onto it. But it was too late, and that might have been the worst part of the whole thing, being aware. He didn't even have a chance to get back outside, or do _anything_ before it crashed on him. He went to get up, but he didn't make it out of the seat in time. It had escalated far too rapidly.  
  
The confidence... it meant nothing. It was gone now. There one moment and gone the next. It'd drained out of him just that fast. All that remained now was that unfortunately all too familiar, deep, paralyzing fear.  
  
By the time he identified the sound deep in his ears as the sweeping roar and crackle of flames, he was already deep in the claws of the beast.  
  
His visual focus was still on Aziraphale, but it was dropping steadily. He could see those lips moving, he could make out the 'Crowley?'s, but he had no ability to respond to them at all.  
  
The air in the room felt thicker, all of a sudden. Heavy. Pressing down on him. He was having a hard time processing it, too. His breaths were coming quicker in desperation to fill his lungs up properly. His chest was burning. The smell of burning books filled his nose and it felt like he was breathing poison gas.  
  
At some point, Aziraphale had gotten up and moved to him. But when that hand touched him, instead of helping, it made things even worse. There was a flash of imagery in front of his eyes; of flames and charred paper, seemingly brought on by that faint brush of skin against his, and it looked as real as if it were happening right in front of him again.  
  
This time his angel was in the middle of it all. The memory had warped into more of a scene from one of his nightmares. He couldn't tell fact from fiction anymore.  
  
_You naive idiot._  
  
The bookshelves went blurry around him. Obscured as though he was seeing them through smoke. Then he started to feel hot. He began to sweat. The heat of those flames felt real too.  
  
The nausea set in. His hands turned to static... or, at least, he_ thought_ that was where his hands were supposed to be. He couldn't be sure anymore.  
  
He was too far out of his head to remember to use the box breathing this time. None of the other things he'd learned could get through to him, either. The seize had hit him too hard, too fast.  
  
_You're kidding, right? You couldn't seriously think it would be that simple. The only thing **simple** here is **you**. It's a wonder Aziraphale has bothered with you at all._  
  
It took no effort at all for that to sink in: he was a fool. It was like he was back at zero again, like he had learned absolutely nothing at all. It was almost amazing, how quickly his mind had emptied itself of anything positive or useful. If there was a way for him to harness that and use it as ability, if he could manage to do the same thing with the _negative_ thoughts; throw them out on a whim, the situation would be very different indeed. As it was, his tether had stretched just that little bit too much.  
  
_You feel good for a little while, and then you think everything's okay all of a sudden? You think you can just do this? You think you don't have to try anymore?_  
  
The environment lost its color suddenly, becoming dull and near completely monochromatic. The effect was disorienting to say the least, and he was dizzy as his head whipped back and forth, his confused brain trying to make sense out of what he was seeing.  
  
_You really just charged in here, armed with your pride alone, and expected everything to be fine.  
_  
The oppression in the atmosphere made it feel like the room was a steadily shrinking box that he was being forced to stay inside of. It was crushing him.  
  
_You thought you could beat this that easily? **You**?  
_  
The pressure built, and built, and then...  
  
_You're weak. You're pathetic. You know that, don't you? You're never going to win._  
  
It reached critical mass.  
  
He bolted.  
  
He hadn't given his body the command to do so... in these situations he found that it was difficult to get it to respond. No, it was more like the other way 'round. _It_ had commanded _him_. The gate of his fight or flight instinct had slammed, very forcefully, into the post of flight.  
  
He was up and out the door before Aziraphale could even register that he'd moved, despite being right next to him in the moments leading up to his escape. He'd never seen Crowley move that fast before. And actually, he hadn't _seen_ him this time, either. He'd seen a blur at best. It briefly made him wonder what other capabilities the demon had that he'd held back, perhaps even without realizing he'd done so. Or maybe they were abilities that had been otherwise dulled by his long, relatively easy life on Earth.  
  
But it was something he wondered as he hustled toward the shop door. When he exited, he looked down the street in all directions from the corner. There was already no trace of Crowley.  
It worried him. Naturally, it worried him. Crowley had never reacted quite so strongly before.  
  
The car was still parked outside, so he was out there somewhere on foot. At least _that_ was a blessing. Crowley in this state, plus the car? Those two were a destructive force on the best of days. Only ruin could follow if they were put together in a situation like this.   
  
He could still feel Crowley. So he was okay, relatively speaking. But where the Hell...?  
  
He looked around again, hands wringing in front of him. He didn't even know where to start, but that didn't matter. He'd search until he found Crowley again. He set off in a random direction. Stopping to think about it logically would take too long. He thought he might be able to catch Crowley before he got too far away if he got lucky.  
  
Time became a blur as he canvassed what felt like the whole of Soho. When he next lifted his nose from the ground, came up for air and checked his watch, it had been about an hour, and he'd found nothing so far. Not even a clue.   
  
Crowley easily could've gotten home in that amount of time, especially moving that fast. Mayfair wasn't that far from the bookshop at all. Would he have gone home, though? Did he have the wits about him to go home right now?  
  
Closing the last distance in the path to circle back 'round to the bookshop, he went to absentmindedly stick his hand in his pocket while walking, and that was when he felt it, and remembered; his phone. He had a _phone_. He could call Crowley. He didn't know if the demon was with it enough to answer, but he could at least try.  
  
He walked over to the Bentley and opened the door, sliding into the driver's seat to sit down so he could concentrate better.  
  
He pulled the device from his pocket, placing the tip of his finger at the bottom and sliding it up against the screen in a well practiced motion. That part he had down pretty well by now. He had to do it every time he tried to use his phone, after all. It was the rest that was still going to take some time.  
  
He closed his eyes, trying hard to recall Crowley's instruction.   
  
_All you have to do is push the little phone icon if you wanna call me. I'll be the first one on the list in your contacts. Just gotta tap on my name. You can ask Siri to call me too, if you'd rather. Just say 'call Crowley'._  
  
For the sake of expedience, having already spent a lot of time looking for him, he decided to go with the latter. "Siri? Can you call Crowley for me, please?"  
  
_'Calling Crowley.'  
_  
Aziraphale started the car, fingers drumming nervously against the wheel as he listened to the phone ring. The sound of Crowley's voice reached his ears, and he got excited for a moment, but then realized it was only the same recorded greeting he had on his answering machine at the flat. "Crowley, call me back. Please." He said simply, picking up the phone to fumble with it and eventually figuring out what he needed to do to hang up the call.  
  
"Damn it." He cursed, biting at his bottom lip as he guided the car back onto the road. He'd been unlucky and the gamble hadn't worked. He opened all four of the car's windows with a minor miracle. The stress was beginning to make him overheat.  
  
He could make the call again. That was the only thing he could think of. He could call and call until Crowley picked the bloody phone up.  
  
At least one more try.

"Siri? Call Crowley, please." He said, doing his best to glance around while in motion. He was driving slow as he possibly could without making a nuisance of himself and upsetting the other drivers.  
  
_'Calling Crowley.'_  
  
The ringing started again, but this time there was something peculiar about it. He could hear the ringing from inside the car, but also... there was ringing from outside the car? And it was happening at a similar frequency.  
  
That didn't make any sense. He looked at the screen, and there was no immediate indication he'd messed up the phone somehow with his haste.  
  
The implication suddenly fell on him like a lead weight. Could it mean... that Crowley was close by?  
  
The answer to that question was quickly found when he cleared the last parked car of the row and his eyes seized on a very distinct shade of ginger hair at the end of the block he was driving down.  
  
Aziraphale had finally found him, and he'd still been lingering fairly close by. Relief flooded him, and it wasn't until that moment that he realized how scared he'd been. He'd remained level-headed and rational somehow, but now that those factors were being stripped away with his quickly draining adrenaline, he could feel the pounding of his heart and the tightness of his chest.  
  
Crowley was sitting on a bench at the street corner, one hand clenched around his pant leg and the other tightly gripping his phone, eyes pointed down as both of his legs bounced nervously. So, he'd tried to answer... but it was clear to tell he wasn't quite back in control of himself yet, even from a distance. There was also a knocked over whisky bottle by his feet. Empty, and no signs of a spill.  
  
Aziraphale quickly pulled the car over and parked it as close as he could get to the demon, leaned over to stick his head out the window, and called out for him. "Crowley."  
  
The sound of Aziraphale's voice grabbed hold of something deep within him and finally dragged him back to the surface. His head snapped up at the call, and the movement of his body ceased.  
  
"Uh... h-huh?" He glanced around and found he didn't recognize his surroundings at all. Hadn't he been... in the bookshop?  
  
But he was here, on the street corner, sure enough, and Aziraphale was sitting in the Bentley. His head felt fuzzy and he couldn't see quite right. Was he... drunk? He licked the roof of his mouth and tasted remnants of Scotch. Yep, drunk.  
  
The panic had been so strong this time that it had made him black out, and he'd lost track of what he'd done in the meantime. That was troubling. Even so, it was still filtering in, slowly but surely, how he'd gotten into this situation. He'd run. He'd _literally_ run away from his problems.  
  
His eyes focused again and he became aware of the fact that Aziraphale was next to him, now. He'd exited the car and come over to collect him. "Get in, love. We're going home."  
  
Oh. So Aziraphale had come to rescue him, as always. He wondered if he'd ever be able to even begin to repay him for all that he'd done. All that he knew he'd continue to do.  
  
But, he thought, with a slight inward laugh, Aziraphale would scold him for thinking that again. He always said he didn't do what he did to be repaid, and Crowley knew he was telling the truth. It seemed like most of the time he wouldn't even accept that. Even so...  
  
His train of thought was cut off by Aziraphale's hand touching him, grabbing his arm by the bicep to urge him to stand. The touch of his hand didn't hurt, this time. It didn't create the image of anything nasty. It was once again the soothing balm that it normally would be, and that was relieving.  
  
He let Aziraphale loop his arm around his shoulders and help him to the car and into it, watching him as he crossed back around to slip into the driver's seat.  
  
The angel's hand took his once he was settled and the car was in motion, holding it tight for the whole drive back to Mayfair.  
  
Once they were back, Aziraphale parked the car and exited it, walking around to help Crowley out as well. He put the demon's arm back around his shoulders and led him into the building, holding onto him through the walk to the lift. He kept holding him through the ride up to the flat, not letting him go at all until he'd brought him to the bedroom.  
  
He deposited Crowley on the bed, petting over his head on his way to stand back up. "Stay here, darling. I'll be _right back_. I'm going to go to the kitchen and get us some tea."  
  
He tried to be quick, using a mix of manual actions and just a pinch of miracle to make it so the trip didn't take too long. The last thing he wanted to do was worry Crowley further at the moment.  
  
When he returned, Crowley was sitting at the end of the bed, one of the blankets pulled up over his head and folded over his front. He was cocooned in it, for lack of a better term, only his face visible, and the look on it was pure misery.  
  
His perceived failure was clearly hitting him hard.  
  
He handed Crowley his tea, which he accepted with a shaky hand. At first, Aziraphale sat next to him, not touching him at the moment. Just trying to give him space, should he need it.  
  
It gradually became clear that wasn't the case, though. Soon enough Crowley's body was leaning, moving closer, erasing that space at the same rate as the liquid was draining from the cup.  
  
So far he'd been mute since Aziraphale found him, but when the angel's hand gently touched his back, it was like his tenderness opened the floodgates.  
  
"I... I'm sorry, I'm sorry... fuck, I'm so _sorry._" Crowley gasped, clinging to him. He'd fucked up, and he knew he had. It had just been a big waste of time. He'd been so sure of himself, but he'd failed and let Aziraphale down. He felt he couldn't apologize fast enough, to try to fix it. To beg for forgiveness. Everything hurt. The last thing he wanted to be was a disappointment.  
  
_"No_." Aziraphale's voice was firm. He was rejecting it outright. Crowley had no reason to be sorry, after all. It wasn't his fault, and the angel would brook no resistance to that fact.  
  
Crowley's brain had translated it in a completely different way, though. His next breath was sharp. He stopped apologizing, and simply moved to press his forehead against the back of Aziraphale's shoulder instead, trembling against him.   
  
This was the last straw, then. He'd finally pushed too far. He'd been cocky. Said he could do it, but he couldn't. He should've known he couldn't. Aziraphale was going to give up on him now, surely. "I..."  
  
"No, Crowley. You are not to apologize for something beyond your control. I've told you before." Aziraphale continued, turning his body enough to move Crowley off him again so he could tuck him under his arm and stroke his head through the fabric. "It's _alright,_ dearest. Truly. It's not all going to happen just as we think it should. Life just doesn't work that way, even for us. I have to say, I'm rather impressed with you for trying at all."  
  
It was a bit foolhardy... a gamble that hadn't paid off, when all was said and done, but the _attempt_ still said something.  
  
"If you listen to _nothing else_ I say, listen to this: setbacks are natural." The turn of phrase was simply used to illustrate the importance of the fact. He _knew_ Crowley was listening. Crowley always listened, even when he was like this. "This doesn't make you weak. Any progress is good progress, and I am _so proud of you_. I mean that, from the bottom of my heart. You wanted to try something. Perhaps it didn't work this time, but you _tried_. There's a certain power in that by itself. Perfection isn't something I expect from you, and you shouldn't expect it from yourself, either. _No one_ is perfect. No one gets through this without challenges. I'm here to help you. I'm not going to give up on you, not ever. Especially not over something like this."  
  
In the end, he was holding a firm belief that it was just too soon to have tried that. Clearly they hadn't done near enough to prepare him for such a big step yet. Aziraphale knew that it wasn't _anyone's_ fault, but despite what he'd said, it still managed to feel like he was to blame for it somehow. He hadn't treated it as carefully as he should have.   
  
Crowley had been over eager again, had taken too much upon himself again, gotten impatient, and he'd foolishly allowed it. The demon had needed out, from the moment his hand started shaking. Aziraphale should've insisted, should've put his foot down, but he didn't. He'd had that moment of introspection, and clearly he'd made the wrong choice. He let him push, and let him get hurt.  
  
He made to get up. His intention had simply been to tidy up the room, clean up the dishes, and get his mind off it for a moment so he could have a clear head to better focus on Crowley.  
  
But then Crowley was grabbing at him, arms bursting from his covering. He pitched backwards, making both of them fall, and the blanket slipped off his head as he landed on his back, Aziraphale on top of him.  
  
Dazed from the sudden loss of equilibrium and unable to do much else, the angel looked into Crowley's eyes. Those normally slitted pupils were about three times their normal width, and the intent of his act suddenly became so clear that it was practically a flashing neon sign.  
  
"Darling, you're drunk." Aziraphale stated, flatly, moving Crowley's legs to frame his own body and pulling him back up into a sitting position.  
  
"'M not." Crowley protested, shaking his head against him. "I sobered up."  
  
Aziraphale sighed. "Even so, I really don't think we should. Not with you in this state."  
  
"I get why you say that, I do. But... right now I... god, I just... I _need_ you. _Please_. Be here. Love me, love me, love me." His breathing was ragged as he dug his fingertips into Aziraphale's back, keeping him close.  
  
And Aziraphale heard it, loud and clear, what those words were actually meant to say. The unspoken meanings had become easier to decipher the more time he spent with Crowley, the more time they spent picking apart his mental wounds. He was gradually becoming completely fluent in Crowley-speak, particularly in the things left unsaid.  
  
_'I'm scared and I feel like I'm gonna fall apart. I need you to help me hold it together.'_  
  
What Crowley was doing right now was reaching out for him, saying that he needed something to ground him, because he was suddenly very afraid that all of this wasn't actually real. That it was something sadistic his cracked mind had come up with as the best way to torture him after he lost his angel. He'd become terrified this might just all be a long dream that he was going to wake up from, by himself, in this bed.  
  
The thought of it broke Aziraphale's heart. "Crowley..."  
  
"I need you to be okay. You've _gotta be okay._" The demon wanted to cry, needed to cry, but couldn't. It was stuck. "The fire. I saw it. Couldn't see you anymore, and I thought... you were..." Crowley's fingers clenched hard around the fabric of Aziraphale's shirt. "But you aren't. You _aren't_... 'cause I don't know what I'll do if you are." The heavy feeling lingering in his chest threatened to crush him. Aziraphale, with all his strength, with all his understanding, was the only one that could hope to hold it off.  
  
The pain radiating out from Crowley as he spoke those words broke that tiny bit of resistance the angel had been feeling, too. Crowley needed him close, close as possible. He needed the full depth of their emotional connection that was most easily accessed by making use of the physicality that had grown between them. He needed to feel the entirety of their bond to help him break out of this. Aziraphale knew he had the power to help make this better, all he had to do was use it.   
  
He really couldn't help but come around, with the truth of the matter laid out in front of him so plainly. "I'm not. I'm _not_, my love. I'm with you." He whispered, pressing feather light kisses to Crowley's temple. "What you saw wasn't real. Your mind is being cruel to you, but we're going to beat it. I'm here, and I'm never going to leave you again. I promise, Crowley. Do you hear me? I promise."  
  
Crowley made a desperate little sound in the back of his throat, and it made Aziraphale flare alive with the need to protect and care for his beloved, to make him feel every single bit of his love. He placed his hands on either side of Crowley's head and leaned in to kiss him deep, pressing his body in as best he could in that position to let the demon get the vague sense of his weight up against him, knowing that it comforted him to feel it.  
  
"Aziraphale." Crowley breathed, in between the presses of their lips, for once sounding less like he was simply enjoying the feel of the syllables against his tongue and more like the angel's name was a piece of driftwood he was clinging to as he fought not to drown.  
  
"Shh. Shh, sweetheart. I haven't gone anywhere. I've got you." He whispered, soothing Crowley. He moved a bit closer, shifting to pull his demon into his lap properly, figuring he needed more to remind him of his presence.   
  
A shaky hand found its way into the blonde curls at the back of his head, a silent plea. This, too, was read like an open book.  
  
Crowley needed Aziraphale's love to fill him, to do what it was so good at doing. He needed it to slide into that perfectly carved out gap, help him pull the disjointed parts of his mind back together, and help make him feel whole again.  
  
Whether he knew it or not right now, he was making the choice to try and beat this, with Aziraphale's reinforcement. He wasn't avoiding it. He wasn't withdrawing. He wanted to make their love his weapon to fight the darkness back.  
  
It would've surely sounded stupid if said aloud, but as a conviction there was nothing stronger.  
  
"Now... this is really what you want, Crowley?" Aziraphale tried to lean back to look the demon in the face, but in his peaked state he wouldn't allow the separation, clinging to him with arms tightly wrapped around the back of his neck. "This is what you need?" It was crucial not to make a misstep here. He'd done that one too many times today already. He had to be sure he had it right.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The answer had come so quickly that it left him wondering if Crowley fully understood what he was asking. "You'll allow me to... make it about you? _Only_ you."  
  
"Yes. Angel, please."  
  
"And you're very sure you _want_ me to do that." This clarification felt particularly necessary. Particularly _vital_. So far, Crowley had barely allowed him to pay him any direct attention at all. It was easy, in these circumstances, to feel like he was pressuring him, even though he was the one dragging his feet.  
  
But the answer still remained the same. _"Yes._ Go-- Sat-- **_fuck_**. I can't fucking stand it. Please, touch me. Please, please, please. I wanna _stop_ feeling like this. Come here. Help me." There was a slight breathlessness in the undertones of his voice now. "Just... just keep your mouth away from..." He fell quiet, and the aversion of his eyes right after was almost too much for the blonde to take.   
  
He leaned over so that he was back in Crowley's line of sight. "Dearest, please don't even begin to think you're disappointing me. Not only does that not matter right now, but the fact is that you aren't. You couldn't. In fact, I'm very glad that you're able to find the courage to tell me about your limits. I never want to do anything you're not comfortable with, least of all at a time like this." Aziraphale told him, honestly, though he couldn't help wondering why _that_ of all things was what Crowley was resisting. And it was fine enough to wonder, he supposed, but he had been given a boundary, and he would observe it.   
  
He absolutely _would not ever_ cross any of Crowley's boundaries. "Tell me if you need to stop, okay? Right away." Taking advantage of him was so ridiculous a concept that he couldn't even spare it a single thought. He respected him, valued him, and valued _his trust_ far too much to ever even think to be so selfish with him. "Now... lie back, my sweet boy. I'll take good care of you." He said, gently slipping a hand between them to press against Crowley's chest and urge him to reel back out a bit, eventually getting him to settle properly into the pillows.  
  
The heat of determination spread its way down Aziraphale's spine, almost violently, as he laid Crowley down. When he was done here, he wanted Crowley to never again be able to doubt that he was loved, that this was very real.  
  
"I love you." He whispered, cradling the demon's head in a soft hold again as he leaned over him. "I love you so deeply, sometimes it feels like it's the only thing that I know how to do. It's bound up inside of me like an instinct that I've had for ages."  
  
The truth of those words hit him in the chest like a battering ram. When he considered it, _really_ considered it... that was precisely what it was, for him. At this point, loving Crowley felt like it was something he was _made_ to do.  
  
The effect hit Crowley just as hard, too. "Aziraphale, _please_." He breathed out, needy and edging toward desperate.   
  
_'Please. Give me something. Touch me. Be here.'_  
  
His cool hands slid down Aziraphale's back, pressing, trying to pull the angel down more fully against him. His fingers felt even colder than they actually were, even with the layers of fabric in between, due to how flushed Aziraphale already was. The contrast gave him a little jolt. He obliged, and angled his hips down to press his groin against Crowley's, slowly grinding and giving a breathy sigh when Crowley shifted to meet him.  
  
He quickly controlled the indulgent part of himself, though. Pulled back. It wasn't about him, right now. It was about Crowley. Only Crowley.  
  
He tensed every time Aziraphale's hands slid over his hip bones, and the trembling that took him over carried a vibe of anticipation, but it was near impossible to actually tell if that was indication of a good or bad thing without asking.  
  
So he did. "Can I touch you, there? With my hand, I mean. Is that alright?" He'd told him not to use his mouth, but he _hadn't_ told him not to touch. It was an important clarification that needed to be addressed.  
  
Warmth flooded Crowley's entire body, but now it was the _pleasant_ kind of warmth. He knew better by this point, but part of him might not ever get used to the care that Aziraphale took with him. Perhaps that part of him didn't_ want_ to, and it was something else he wasn't trying particularly hard to banish. It was such a nice feeling to sink into, even when he was so out of it. "Y-Yeah. 'S okay." He stammered.   
  
While the touch of Aziraphale's hand had once felt like it was off limits, the idea had since inched its way into the gray area, apparently. It wasn't setting off alarm bells anymore. At most, the ringing of those bells had become the light clinking of a wind chime, and that was more than enough reduction for him to proceed. Besides, even with everything going on, he knew that he could always stop things if it got to be too much for him. Aziraphale _always_ reminded him, and that was probably especially true right now, actually. "Please."  
  
Aziraphale thought that he might never hear Crowley say the word so many times again. That was sad, but right now being gifted with it was sort of bittersweet for him anyway. It sounded so nice, but he knew Crowley was still hurting, even as he said it. The fact that he was hurting seemed to be what was _making_ him say it, in fact.  
  
With some careful maneuvering, Aziraphale opened and peeled those skin tight jeans down enough to get access, and Crowley still somehow had the wits about him to gasp when those strong fingers curled around him. His back arched prettily, and one of his hands moved to grip Aziraphale's forearm on the side he was balancing on.  
  
Encouraged, he then began to stroke Crowley, receiving that sweet catch of breath and answering with one of his own, unable to help a little amused smile as the demon's hips pushed forward insistently a couple of times before he settled down again. "I love you, sweetest. My beautiful boy. My beloved. My very own. I'm not going to stop telling you, not ever again. I'm going to tell you whenever I can, to make up for all the times that I couldn't, or the times when I was a purposely obtuse fool. I hope that you never tire of it."  
  
"I won't. I wont, I won't, I won't." He hadn't expected a reply, but it came, and Crowley's hands both flew up to grip tightly at the round edges of Aziraphale's shoulders. "Come back. Always tell me."  
  
"Shh, love. I'm not gone. I was, for a time, but I _did_ come back. I came back for _you_, Crowley. I'm really here. I only hope that I can help you prove this to yourself." He moved to shift more of his weight onto his knees, and his free hand stroked over the entire breadth of Crowley's chest with slow, soothing movements. "My love, you aren't alone. I told you, didn't I? Alone isn't something you'll find yourself to be, anymore."  
  
That soothing hand moved to his hair, next, sending more warmth down through the whole of him with those fond movements at the very top of his head, paired with the other hand that was still stroking him. "You've done so well, my dearest one. You're so strong. I know it must be hard for you to believe that right now, but it's true. You've gone through so much, but you haven't succumbed. You've fallen, but you've gotten back up every single time. Most couldn't say the same. I know you're going to do it again, this time. I believe in you. I am so unbelievably proud of you, even when you stumble. Do you know why? Because you're trying. You're fighting."  
  
Crowley whined, low and weak. It was all he could do in response do that. He loved Aziraphale so much it was painful. The angel was always there to push his warm, healing light into all of his dark corners. To smooth out his rough edges. To make him feel whole.  
  
God, he needed so badly for this to be real. It _was_, wasn't it?  
  
"I love you."  
  
"You're strong."  
  
"I believe in you."  
  
Aziraphale brought him to climax with a slow, gradual build, whispering those sweet words in his ear the entire time. He eased him through it so gently it should've been impossible. "Let go, love. You can let go." He'd begun to say instead, upon reading the signs that Crowley was close.  
  
He came just after that, as if he were obeying the command, spilling over the angel's hand with that lovely name on his lips. "Aziraphale... Aziraphale..." He repeated it, over and over. It was the only word he knew at the moment.  
  
Aziraphale pulled him up and held him so close, through it. Continued to whisper those declarations of love into his ear. "Shh... it's alright. I've got you. You're safe, here with me. I love you, Crowley. I'll never let anyone hurt you again."  
  
It continued to be unbelievable to Crowley that he'd stumbled his way into having someone who cared for him to this degree. It hit him bone-deep, tore right through that cloak of unease he'd been wearing.   
Finally, the message got through.  
  
_It's real. _  
  
_Oh, fuck... it's so real._  
  
He let that thought circulate in his mind until it became a conviction. That released the cap on the tension and emotion that had been building up inside of him, and he let the first of what would become many deep sobs take him. He was wracked with them, shaking against Aziraphale, crying into him, clinging to him desperately for what felt like ages.  
  
The cloud of doubt hovering over him was gradually being cast aside again, carried away in those tears.  
  
Clarity came to him all at once. He was there... there, in his flat. No, not _his_. Their flat. It was _theirs_. It was no longer the cave he ran to in order to hide from the world, all on his own. Hadn't been for a while. It had become the home they were making together now. He was so wanted. He was so loved. This was precisely where he belonged. He had a place in this world, the world that had kept marching on after its supposed end, and that place was right here.  
  
He really_ wasn't_ dreaming any of this. It was all true. It had all happened.  
  
The pain was real. The catharsis had been real, and it was _so_ real now, in the cry he was having. In the way he was holding, in the way he was being held. It felt so good, now that it was finally coming out.  
  
Aziraphale was his. He was Aziraphale's. _Finally_, they belonged to each other. They always had, in a way... but _properly_, now. They'd been bonded by this struggle, and had finally fallen in together like they had always been meant to.  
  
They were working side by side, putting his broken mind back together, bit by bit. It was hard. It had been hard, and it was still hard. He'd fucked up today, but it was going to be okay. He had help.  
  
Aziraphale was so brilliant. The angel was his light in the darkness.   
  
His voice was always like a beacon in the night, guiding Crowley; the lost ship that had been swept out into the middle of a dark sea, back to land. Where he was waiting, and always would be.  
  
Crowley was so in love with him.  
  
"More." He said with a sniff, once his tears had slowed to a stop, and there was a strength in his voice that wasn't there before. He sounded almost normal as he pulled at Aziraphale, keeping him close.  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
"Yes." He absolutely was. He snapped his fingers, and their clothes disappeared.  
  
Though his confidence was returning in waves, he still persisted in calling out for Aziraphale, all without saying a word. It was coming through without him needing to. In those silent little shivers that still kept wracking him, in the trembling of his fingers that was only very slowly receding as he kept holding onto Aziraphale for dear life.   
  
_'Tell me how you feel. Tell me. I wanna hear it.'  
_  
So he did. "You are mine, now and forever, just the same as I'm yours. My darling, you are so very loved. So much so that I can't even _begin_ to explain it to you properly in words. Nothing would do it justice. All I think I can do is show you."  
  
"Do. Show me." This, he said. Whispered. Let his exhale carry it away, like it was something forbidden that would break the whole scene apart if he said it normally.  
  
He _did_ still need something, then.  
  
"Would you like it if I have you, my love?" He still wasn't completely sure where he was standing on that, since it still somewhat felt like taking advantage, but he also knew there were few better ways to make Crowley feel good these days than to let him witness him in pleasure. "Is that what you need?"  
  
But, to his surprise, things weren't as muddled as they seemed to be on the surface. Crowley, ever the unpredictable force, was more than coherent enough to give his clear consent to this now. "Yeah, have me." His voice, though leveled out by now, still managed to convey that ache and the soul-deep hunger that hadn't quite subsided yet. "I want you to have me."  
  
_'I'm yours. I am, I am, I am. I've never been anything else.'_  
  
"Then, I will."  
  
At the confirmation, Crowley gave him a somewhat shy sideways glance. "Y'okay with me on top?"  
  
Aziraphale answered him with a slightly puzzled look first, but nodded his agreement anyway. He allowed Crowley to move him, pushing him over to lay onto his back beside him.  
  
On Crowley's way to actually climb on top of him, a scar that had previously escaped his notice caught his attention, following the line of one of his ribs.  
  
It being there at all was a bit of a mystery... Aziraphale had left his stretch marks on his body as a way of expressing his comfort in his own skin, but Crowley had always seemed to have taken the opposite approach to things. His appearance had always been carefully maintained.  
  
This was a scar from an injury. Quite a different beast from a stretch mark. Crowley could've healed it easily, made it go away. The question was, why hadn't he? That was a mystery he'd like to unravel, but it really didn't seem the time.  
  
But, that aside, Aziraphale could deduce the reason he hadn't seen it before. It was a very thin scar, and almost silvery white. It blended in very well. Likely only visible in certain light, at a certain angle. He just so happened to have finally met the requirements. "Where did you get this...?"  
  
"Mn?" Crowley looked down lazily, watching as Aziraphale's fingers trailed over that spot. "Oh. Long story."  
  
"I'm quite sure I've got the time."  
  
"Ngh." It wasn't actually as long a story as he implied, he'd just hoped to avoid telling the truth of it. At the moment, anyway. "Ah... er... well..." His eyes darted around, looking anywhere but Aziraphale's face. "Failed exorcism." He mumbled, low and quick.  
  
It soon became very clear that Aziraphale had still heard him, though.  
  
There was a transient flash of intense anger below him, and it sent a chill down Crowley's spine. It made him feel like he wanted to jump out of his skin. "Who did that to you?" When he spoke, Aziraphale's voice was just as cold as the air, and Crowley squirmed on top of him. He felt the divine wrath pulse under Aziraphale's skin, and he knew as a rule it should terrify him. It still did, to an extent. His demonic instinct had him frozen like a deer in the headlights, heaping on top of the lingering anxiety he already had. This one was an instinct that he still maintained all of. It hadn't dulled, because there had been no exposure.  
  
At the same time, though perhaps dwarfed by the fear and discomfort, there was a tiny thrill inside of him. He'd never actually managed to _see_ Aziraphale being protective of him. It felt... good. Maybe it shouldn't have, but it did.  
  
"Dunno." Aziraphale's gaze was hard on him, making him shrink in his spot. "Er... I mean, dunno who he was. It was a human. Happened back in the 1800s. Guy's been dead a long ass time."  
  
Aziraphale's face softened as he let his fingers run across the scar again, and his brow creased with worry. So many things had happened to Crowley that he was just learning about. Were there even more bad things... or even _worse_ things? "Why didn't you ever tell me about this?"  
  
This was precisely what Crowley had wanted to avoid by not telling him. He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to Aziraphale's lips, resting his forehead on the angel's. "Knew it'd make you worry, and I didn't want you to. I'm fine."  
  
Aziraphale wasn't sure how much he could really trust those two words anymore. "What happened?"  
  
"He was a priest. Sneaky fuck. Stalked me. Saw me doing some Temptations." Crowley scowled at the memory of the man. He couldn't help it.   
  
"But... exorcism doesn't involve..."  
  
_"He_ thought it did. Dipshit stabbed me, at the end."  
  
Again, he felt Aziraphale's anger flare up, and he used what little energy he had to reach up and cradle his face, allowing his pinky fingers to slip behind the angel's ears to stroke slowly at the soft skin there. "Hey, hey... he had some of it right, but not near enough to get the job done properly. I'm okay, Angel. I just left it there to remind me not to be stupid again." He kissed him again, briefly, then leaned back, to look at him properly while he told him the rest. "If it means anything to you, I had it on good authority that he became one of ours. Uh, theirs." He added, pointing down to further illustrate what he was saying.  
  
"There's some justice in this world, then."  
  
"Maybe just a bit."  
  
Aziraphale nodded, satisfied, then pulled Crowley back down for yet another kiss, letting his eyes drift shut. His tongue slipped gently inside the other's mouth, who accepted it easily. He wasn't sure how much time had passed while they kissed this time, but at some point he heard a quiet finger snap, and soon after that he felt Crowley's hand wrap around his cock. He opened his eyes again just in time to see the demon lean back, holding him by the base and making a show of it as he pressed the entire length into himself in one fluid movement.  
  
The sigh he gave as he did so held something in it that sounded suspiciously close to relief, and Aziraphale was horribly turned on by the entire display despite himself. He was still focused on Crowley first and foremost, but he was beginning to think there was no harm in letting the indulgent part of him back out to play now. If he knew Crowley, that would be precisely what he wanted, in one way or another.  
  
So, he'd just throw things out until one stuck, he supposed. "Crowley, dear... do you want me to touch you some more?"  
  
Crowley shook his head, drawing slow, deliberate breaths as he sat there with him fully sheathed. "Nah--_shit, Aziraphale_\--'M okay like this. Just... talk to me, if you like."  
  
Aziraphale's light laughter at his little curse rolled over him. "Alright."  
  
Crowley began to move on him, and he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he just let them wander. Kissing Crowley was definitely his favorite thing, but touching him ranked pretty far up there too. He touched him whenever he could, wherever he could, loving each part of him equally. He was doing so now as well.  
  
For his part, Crowley had almost immediately lost himself in the feeling of being full with Aziraphale. It sent hot, tingly sparks up his spine and had him extending his downstrokes, drawing them out as much as he could so he could hold onto it for the longest amount of time possible.  
  
He struggled to figure out how to best balance himself, but eventually ended up with his hands pressed flat on Aziraphale's thighs, the whole of his lanky body offered up for his view.  
  
And oh, Aziraphale looked his fill. The sight of Crowley's cock bobbing against his stomach as he took his to the hilt over and over again, witnessing him stretched out on top of him, completely exposed... it was impossibly erotic and bordered on being almost too lewd for words, but the angel watched anyway. He was entranced, really. Couldn't help being. Crowley was gorgeous. He felt so lucky to be so unequivocally trusted by this beautiful being.  
  
"You're so handsome, Crowley. Do you know that? It's maddening at times. Every single part of you is unbelievably attractive to me." He said, the trail of his hands and light scratch of his nails over Crowley's thighs searing into his skin, fueling him. "I'm never going to get enough of you, I'm afraid. I do hope that's alright."  
  
"'S good. Don't want you to." He replied, leaning forward to splay his hands across Aziraphale's chest instead so he could speed his pace.  
  
_'I'll never get enough, either. I want you-- no, I **need** you to want me forever.'_  
  
Aziraphale heard this message perhaps even more clearly than any of those previous, and he decided to send one of his own through his actions. His hands reached up, one cradling Crowley's face, and the other grasping for one of the demon's arms so he could pluck his hand off his chest and take it in his. Balancing him. Loving him.  
  
These movements sent back that message, and it said _'I absolutely will. No matter what.'_  
  
There was affection pouring out of Aziraphale's every move, his every touch. Every stroke of his fingers against Crowley's cheek, every squeeze of his hand tightly holding his lover's smaller one.   
  
The unbridled care was gradually working its way inside of Crowley, spreading through and truly helping in bringing him back to himself. He almost broke again, feeling the sobs threatening to return. He was so submerged in the feeling of love that it was taking his breath.  
  
He yanked at Aziraphale with his free hand, somehow successfully managing to get him to sit up properly while he rode him into oblivion, finally breaking their hands apart to rest both of his on the blonde's shoulders for balance. He felt nothing but Aziraphale's fingers taking hold, pressing in on his hips, and the sweet sensation of being his, and it was bliss like nothing else could match. A high he was eagerly diving into in order to balance out the lows.  
  
After a while like that, exhaustion began to try to come for him, but he fought it as hard as he could. At least, for a time. Eventually he reached a point where his body was faltering and it was pure stubbornness that kept him going. His movements were slowing, his limbs were aching, but he was resolved not to stop unless he literally gave out.  
  
He'd just begun to entertain thoughts of dropping onto his back and pulling the angel down on top of him, letting _him_ finish things off, when he suddenly came again. There'd been no real buildup and no warning. This time it was accompanied by a yelp, his eyes slammed shut, and he was clutching at Aziraphale's body, crushing so hard and so close up against him that it seemed like he had to think he was going to die if there was even an inch of space between the two of them. "A-Angel!" He cried, paying absolutely no heed to the mess he was making out of both of them.  
  
"I'm with you, my love. I'm still here." Aziraphale whispered, directly into his ear. His voice was a bit strained, but he fought to keep it as steady as possible while they rode it out. "Right here, in your arms. Where I belong." He comforted Crowley like that for a while; rubbing his back and whispering the reassurances into his ear, steadily, patiently, until his death grip started to relax a little.   
  
It was only then, as he was letting go, that some real awareness of his own body filtered in for Crowley. His muscles were already complaining at being pushed so hard. He could feel his come, splattered over his front, sticking him to Aziraphale. But then he realized, with no small amount of relief, that he'd been flooded with warmth on the inside too. So... that meant Aziraphale had achieved his release at some point in that madness as well. That news broke the remaining tension in his body and melted him. "Fuck, I love you. I do. So goddamn much." He whispered, staying close and letting the moment linger a while before he opened his eyes again and eased off just enough to press a few kisses to the underside of Aziraphale's jaw. Each press of his lips held gratitude, affection, and so many other things that the angel couldn't even identify them all.   
  
A profound sense of calm filled him as he realized what _those_ meant; that Crowley had finally come back to himself. He'd been successful in helping him do so. "Lie down, dear. Let me wrap you up." He said, gently pushing at Crowley to get him to do it, the other hand holding onto him so as to not break the contact completely.  
  
He withdrew, cleaned the both of them off with a well placed miracle, then tucked a blanket tightly against Crowley, leaving the other side to trail over his own body so they were wrapped together. He let Crowley stare at him in the silence for a long moment before speaking back up, reaching over to slide one of his hands between Crowley and the pillow to place it against his cheek and support his head. "You _do_ know, sweetest... that my love for you is in no way dependent upon our physical relationship. It's just an extra. I loved you before we made love the first time, I've loved you since, and I'd love you if we never did again. It hasn't changed, and it wouldn't."  
  
It was less a thing he felt he needed to tell Crowley and more something he'd laid down as bait to see if Crowley would take it and explain himself properly.  
  
"Yeah... yeah, I know. I know. Don't worry about that. Wasn't about that. 'S not something that's bugging me. Really, it's not. I just..." He found that words were failing him. He didn't think he knew how to say it, why he'd wanted the physical connection in a moment like this. Why he felt he'd _needed_ it that much. But he didn't so much as _try_, either. "It helped." He said, finally, turning his face toward the hand holding him to press kisses into its palm.  
  
Aziraphale _knew_ the reason, of course, already. He'd deduced it toward the beginning. He didn't actually _need_ Crowley to tell him, but he'd still hoped he would. Crowley hadn't taken his bait though, and he regarded the silence on the topic that signaled the slight backslide. He'd retreated back into his shell a little bit, beaten up by the day's events. Aziraphale couldn't help but believe it was temporary, though, having seen the great strides he'd been making recently. "Hm. Well... in the end, I suppose that's all that matters." He conceded, turning over onto his side to face Crowley properly, concluding it was best not to challenge him for now. "You feel better, then? Alright?"  
  
Crowley took that as his cue to move back in, slinging his arms around the angel's thick waist and pulling his own body in close enough to press his face into the softness of him. "Maybe not _alright_, but _better_, yeah."  
  
Aziraphale's own arms pulled snug against Crowley's shoulders and made their home there, holding him close as possible. "Can I do anything more for you, love?"  
  
"Mm-mm. Just... stay." Was all he said, his face burying itself even deeper into Aziraphale's torso.  
  
Fingers ran through his copper hair, and he heard that soft voice against his ear, comforting him. "Shhh… no need to fret about that. I'm right here. I'm _always_ going to be right here."  
  
Crowley fell asleep with strong, protective arms around him, the sweet promises and the sound of Aziraphale's heartbeat washing over him, lulling him into rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As it's said, 'it is always darkest just before the day dawneth'. You know I had to do it to 'em.
> 
> This chapter has been slowly piecing itself together for quite a while... so long that I honestly can't remember when exactly I started writing it. But I'm really happy with the final outcome. Despite deliberately and repeatedly punching y'all in the feels I hope you've enjoyed it too xD
> 
> As a side note I can't believe I'm into my fourth month of writing this. We still have quite a long way to go (even if I DON'T keep adding more stuff) so I'm gonna be mind blown by the end but that is already CRAZY
> 
> They're gonna be okay. Not to take the suspense out or anything, but like. I'm a Happy Ending kind of person for sure, so you can rest knowing that things will eventually go up from here! I promise that they will get exactly what they deserve, it's just that along the way I've gotta put 'em through the wringer a little bit. These things rarely (if ever) go in a totally linear fashion, so we had to knock Crowley down a peg or two (or six) to teach him that he can't be getting a big head because he still has a lot of work to do. We're playing the long game with this blessed fic after all
> 
> P.S. it's not 100% related since it's not using this specific version of them but I thought I'd mention that as of a couple days ago I'm also writing a loosely christmas/holiday themed ineffable husbands oneshot (complete with NSFW content bc that's my brand) so if you guys like my writing in general I suppose you can look forward to that too :P
> 
> I haven't decided one way or the other but I think I may skip that week for the fic and post the oneshot in its place on the 23rd instead since we are getting to some pretty angst heavy bits here and I don't wanna be responsible for bringing down anybody's mood on The Festive Week lmfao


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley found himself suddenly and quite unceremoniously dumped into a dingy, dusty environment that he could've recognized without even being able to see. The _smell_ was familiar, sure. He would've known that anywhere, too... but mostly, it was the vibe.
> 
> Oppression. That was the only thing to be felt there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm afraid I'm not gonna be sparing your feels quite yet. Apologies!

Crowley found himself suddenly and quite unceremoniously dumped into a dingy, dusty environment that he could've recognized without even being able to see. The _smell_ was familiar, sure. He would've known that anywhere, too... but mostly, it was the vibe.  
  
Oppression. That was the only thing to be felt there.  
  
The particulars of it all were extremely ambiguous. He didn't know _how_ he got there, he didn't know _why_ he was there, but one thing about it was crystal clear: he was in Hell.  
  
He suspected Heaven would feel the same, based on the brief visit he'd had a short time ago. A length of time that was far _too_ short for his liking. That was the only good thing about time, as an immortal. Eventually, it did a good job at distancing you from things you'd rather forget.  
  
Whether you were actually _willing_ to forget them or not was another matter entirely, and he was a prime example of that, still carrying around centuries old regrets. He'd been trying to let those go, lately, but...  
  
There was a creaking sound behind him suddenly, and he jumped, quickly turning around.

At first, his brain wouldn't cooperate, and it had completely refused to communicate properly with his eyes. He couldn't comprehend what he had discovered as the source of the noise.  
  
In the dim light of the room, leering out at him from behind a desk, he was looking at the unmistakable form of Ligur.  
  
At the sight of him, once his synapses had actually begun to fire again, Crowley instinctively started to back away, the hairs on the back of his neck rising.  
  
"No. No, no, no. You can't be here. You're dead." He said, desperately, more for himself than for Ligur. For the sake of saying it out loud so maybe he'd believe it.  
  
But he _was_ dead, though. He was gone. The Holy Water had made damn sure of that, hadn't it? He'd _melted_ right in front of Crowley's eyes. He'd never forget the sight of that. He hadn't known it would be quite so gruesome... but he'd done what he had to, and he'd do it again in a heartbeat. It was cruel, but he had the potential to be quite good at being cruel in the face of what he had to lose.  
  
There was nothing to believe, or not believe, in all of that. The facts were pretty absolute. So... why did it feel like this was real, too?  
  
Ligur said nothing in return, but reached inside his jacket, and when his hand came back into view, his fingers were curled around the handle of a bucket. Crowley's blood froze instantly. He could hear liquid sloshing against the sides as the other demon deposited it on the desk's top.  
  
Crowley's back bumped against the wall, and he nearly jumped out of his skin. It briefly distracted him, but he hurried to glue his eyes back on Ligur. "I-I _saw you_ fucking melt. There's no way. You're not real."  
  
This was what he _said_, but everything inside of him was screaming at him to run. That he was being an idiot. It was true that he _shouldn't_ be seeing what he was seeing. But weirder things had happened. Was he really going to take the chance? Self preservation was trying its hardest to kick in and make him move.  
  
It finally managed to work when Ligur grinned at him. Those orange eyes and sharp teeth flashed with something that could only be malice. That chill working in tandem with the sight of him standing was enough to actually shock Crowley into moving.  
  
He suddenly turned and bolted from the room, almost tripping over his own feet in his haste to make his exit. He didn't know where he was running to, didn't know where he was in the maze of offices, but he knew he needed to put some distance between him and Ligur.  
  
He tried to keep himself from panicking as he ran, and was mostly successful, but he could still feel his chest burning from the short and sharp breaths he was being forced to take.  
  
That changed when he caught the distinct smell of cigarette smoke, in the same instant that he turned the corner and almost ran smack into Hastur.  
  
"Oh, fuck! Are you fucking _kidding_ me? Not _you_ too!" Crowley cried out in dismay, the soles of his shoes skidding loudly against the dirty floor as he narrowly avoided colliding with him.  
  
He should've known, though. He really should've. These two, they came in a pair. Where you'd find one, you could be sure that the other wasn't far away.  
  
The thought of that in this context, with Ligur already chasing him, made him choke for his breath, and he turned around to run the other way down the hall, giving a low growl. "Fuck. Fuck, fuck, _fuck!"_ He hissed.  
  
In the distance behind him he could hear Hastur drop his cigarette onto the floor and crush it under his boot.  
  
He hadn't expected a different outcome, really, but now that he _knew_ Hastur was joining the chase, it made him move a little faster. He was outnumbered now. The short breaths had gotten even shorter, and it was all he could do to keep moving. He knew he must, that he had no choice, and that was probably the only thing keeping him going.  
  
His throat burned, and terrified tears tried to prick up at the corners of his eyes. He fought them off, somehow. He had no clue _how_, but he didn't really have time to stop and think about it much either.  
  
A warning echoed out from the back of his mind. He was going to have to _make_ time. He couldn't keep going on like this forever. He had to calm the fuck down, or he was going to tip over the edge, freak out for real, and they'd have him in the palm of their hands. Right where they wanted him.  
  
He needed to find a place to take refuge. Not for a long time, that was too much to hope for. He just needed a place where he could stop to catch his breath. If he could get in a cycle or three, that would surely help to steady him.  
  
He looked to his left, then to his right, and his eyes locked on a door that he was rapidly closing in on. In a rare case of good fortune, the door was open for him when he tried to enter. He rushed inside, shutting it behind him quickly but with the least amount of noise possible.  
  
After he engaged the deadbolt, he dropped to his knees, pressed his forehead against the wood, and breathed. He heard a distant voice in the back of his head, counting out those measures of four. He managed to do three of them before feeling the urgent need to move away from the door. Unfortunately, the cycles weren't as calming as they normally would be, but at least it was something.  
  
As he turned around, he belatedly realized that he was in the execution chamber.  
  
Perhaps he wasn't as lucky as he thought. Of all the rooms to go into...   
  
He'd viewed it a few times from the other side of the glass, but hadn't yet had the displeasure of being present on this side. That changed now, he guessed.  
  
You see, demons, they weren't that creative, as a rule. Treason was always punished in this room. The punishment was always picked from the same handful of options, dependent upon the severity of the infraction, and with the most egregious of them involving that dirty bathtub in the center of the room.  
  
He'd only actually seen it used once, but once was enough.  
  
As he looked at it, ran his hand along the ridge of it, all he could think of was the fact that it had been a real possibility that he could have died right here. That had been their goal. They wanted to melt him, while the entirety of Hell watched.  
  
Because he didn't play the game. Because he wasn't willing to be complicit in letting them make Earth their battleground. That alone was enough of a transgression to be murdered in such a gratuitous way.  
  
Although, if he was honest, he'd always felt like they'd get rid of him at the drop of a hat if he gave them a reason to. The more he found out about them, the deeper that conviction ran. That was why he'd always tried his hardest to stay under the radar. If they'd come after him _any sooner_ than they had, he'd have been done for.  
  
He felt his hackles raise again, thinking about them. All of _them_, yes, but the _angels_, too. They weren't any better. In fact, they were _worse_, in ways.  
  
He didn't have time to_ truly_ get angry, though. There was a slam on the other side of the door, then an almost sickening crack as the wood started to buckle, and it spurred him to move again, hurrying to slip out the back way. So much for taking a moment to calm down. He'd had enough time to get back from the very edge, at least, but still not as much as he would've liked.  
  
He ran, and ran... and at some point all of the office entrances started to look the same. He couldn't honestly say he'd spent much time in Hell, after Creation. Just as much as he'd had to. So his sense of direction down here wasn't that good to begin with. He _really_ had no idea where he was _now_.  
  
In the distance, he could hear a low rumble. Movement. That meant other demons. Both a good _and_ bad thing, potentially. He could hide, among a crowd... but he would also be way outnumbered in a crowd that decided to get in on the action.  
  
As he kept moving, he weighed the risk, and ultimately decided it was safer to have a place to hide.  
  
Soon enough, he had reached a crossroads, and a peek down the intersecting hallway revealed the source of the rumbling. It was a crowd of no name demons, just as he'd expected. They were still a distance away from him, but heading his direction.  
  
After a moment he got antsy, and rather than wait for the mob to come to him, he began to move to them. He reached the line of them that were at the front, and briefly got nervous, but the mass of bodies absorbed him easily. He was swept along in the flow, moving along with them as if he was meant to be there.  
  
He stayed with them, content to remain safely in the embrace of the crowd, until they were moving past a vestibule with a very peculiar looking set of double doors at the end of it. He didn't recognize his surroundings at all, unsurprisingly... but something in his intuition was telling him that he _needed_ to get through this door. That it was a way out.  
  
Even if it wasn't, he had quite a bit of time to rejoin the crowd if need be.  
  
He approached the door, and tried to open it normally just for shits and giggles. Both sides were locked, to no one's surprise that would have two brain cells to rub together. A door like this, it wouldn't just be _open_.  
  
Desperation began to fill him, unbidden. He couldn't walk away from this. No matter what, he had to get through this door. Some sense deep inside him was telling him so.   
  
Ligur and Hastur were still chasing him. They could find him here. If they did, he'd be trapped. There was only one way out of the hall he was in, and that was the same way they'd come in to get him. He had to do this quick.  
  
'Quick' in his words equated to mindlessly bashing at it, for some reason. Crowley wasn't particularly strong physically. He was quite average. So... he didn't have a chance of success that was above average, either, but still, he did it.  
  
_Thump._  
  
_"Ouch!_ Fuck..." He hissed, and for the first few hits, he cried out like that, and tried to shake off the pain.   
  
It hurt like Hell, but he still did it.

But soon, he stopped. It wasted too much time. After a while, he was numb to it.  
  
Eventually he began to hear the sound of distinct, purposeful footsteps from the middle of the white noise from the crowd, and he wasn't sure which of his pursuers it was, but it made his heart speed, and also the strikes of his fists. Perhaps it peaked him to an even higher degree _because_ he didn't know which one of them it was.   
  
That feeling of pure terror rose again, in a mighty wave, and it did its damnedest to pull him under completely. He'd run out of time. They were getting close to him now, fighting their way through the sea of bodies. The spike of panic threatened to make his throat close, but he clung hard to the door frame to stay upright, breathing hard through his nose as he forced the anxiety back.  
  
By this point he'd beaten both of his hands into a bloody pulp, trying to break it. They were sticky and red, and they stung from the open wounds. It felt like the wood was just about to give, but he didn't have much left in the tank.  
  
Rashly, once again feeling on the edge of an actual breakdown as he continued to listen to the rush of bodies moving around and those ominous footsteps echoing out, he decided to run at it. He let go and backed up a few feet, taking a breath to attempt to steady himself. He didn't have much weight to throw behind his tries, but it seemed the best option. He couldn't help but think that it would at least be more effective than his fists at this point.  
  
It was. He threw himself completely into it, and, with a crash, the door finally broke. The loud sound made him flinch, and his eyes closed as he fell through the open space. He broke his fall with his shoulder and rolled upright, scrambling onto his feet immediately, too afraid to even stop and take a breath. But when his eyes opened again he was greeted by only darkness. A vast space of complete nothingness. He could see his own body, but nothing else, just black. He turned around, and the door hadn't just shut back up, it was completely gone. It had vanished into thin air.  
  
"Shit."  
  
He was alone. Alone, in total darkness.  
  
It still beat being in total darkness with those two lurking 'round, but it was damn near as horrifying, honestly. More so, in ways. It left him wondering if he'd made a mistake, but then he thought it was better that he'd tried something than to have waited there for them to catch him. One option had been _certain_ doom. The other had been a bit less certain.  
  
As it seemed he was fairly safe for the moment, he allowed his mind to wander slightly to other matters. Chief among them: What was _this_ place? He'd never heard of this before. They were in the basement of a fucking office building. The existence of something like this didn't really make sense. Unless this was just a giant room that had its power completely cut?  
  
That still didn't explain the goddamn door disappearing, though.  
  
Not that he thought they would've told him anything about this. He was an Imp, after all. He didn't matter. They'd never treated him like he was anything more than dirt to be trampled over. At least they hadn't pretended, like the angels had with Aziraphale.  
  
Oh, Aziraphale. This was the first moment he'd had any significant time to think, with the immediate threat gone, and naturally his thought path had led him to his angel. He was probably worried sick right now. _Past_ sick, knowing him.  
  
Crowley had to get out of here, get back to him. He didn't belong here, he'd _never_ belonged here, but especially not now. He belonged _there_. In their cave of a flat in Mayfair that was progressively becoming less of a cave and more of a home the longer they lived together. In that bed that was no longer cold and lonely, but warm and full of love.  
  
He'd figure this out. He _had_ to.  
  
"Crowley." A voice spoke, suddenly. It wasn't close, necessarily, but still closer than he'd like. They'd caught up with him, then. They'd found where he'd gone. They'd broken in here somehow.  
  
His fear spiked, but the adrenaline quickly gave way to anger instead. This time his fight or flight instinct was quite firmly set on fight, apparently.  
  
He couldn't tell which one of them it was that was taunting him, but he didn't care. If they were gonna kill him, fine. Well, not _fine_, obviously... but, either way, he wasn't going to let them play games with his head. He wasn't going to give any of them the satisfaction anymore. "No. Fuck off. Both of you, just _fuck off!_ I'm done. I'm fucking _done_, do you hear me?!" He shouted, with all his might. The raw sound of his voice lingered in the empty space for what felt like forever before finally dying out.  
  
_"Crowley."_  
  
But... no, hang on. That didn't make sense. They hadn't spoken at all so far. Neither of them had, and they certainly hadn't minded doing so when they'd broken into his flat back then. So, why would they only start doing it _now?_   
  
No, this was different... it _felt_ different. It was gentler. It sounded like someone was calling him? He struggled to hear.  
  
_"Crowley."_  
  
His name echoed out, again, from somewhere in the darkness. It came through a bit clearer, this time. He looked around, but he could still see nothing but black.  
  
Except, no... that wasn't true, actually. There was a _tiny_ flicker of light, in the distance. So small he could barely see it... and at first he didn't believe he _was_ seeing it, until it flared in the exact same spot again, shining out from the pitch black.  
  
He began to move toward it as if compelled, following the glint and those faint echoes of his name along the path. He could feel warmth gradually reaching him as he steadily closed the distance.  
  
When he got close enough, he could hear that there was more to the message than just a call of his name.  
  
_"You're dreaming. It's time to wake up, my love."_  
  
**_My love. _**  
  
Those two words hit him like a truck.  
  
_Aziraphale_. It was Aziraphale that was calling him.  
  
"A-Angel? Where...?"

Surely he couldn't have been in Hell, too.  
  
As if in response, the light shimmered again and sent an extra strong pulse of warmth to him.  
  
Hold on... what was that he'd said? Something about dreaming? He was... dreaming? This truly _wasn't_ real?  
  
It was fine enough to think so, when he was in denial and hadn't wanted it to be... but it was actually true? Those two, they really _weren't_ actually there? He couldn't be sure, not with how real it felt. He'd been running for his life.  
  
_"Wake up for me. I know you can."_ Aziraphale's voice, clearly identifiable now, came through to him again, and there was nothing in the world sweeter than that sound. It gave him the strength to close that last distance.  
  
Finally, after what seemed like ages, he'd reached the source of the light, stepping up to it. He crouched down, examining it. When he actually touched it, taking the little ball gingerly into his hand, it expanded, enveloping him completely. He felt Aziraphale's presence there, precisely the same way he always felt it when those strong arms were wrapped around his waist, grounding and protecting him. Shielding him from his pain.  
  
Crowley was _going to_ get back to him.  
  
The strength of that conviction filled him, spreading out from his heart, and he could do nothing else but obey its command.  
  
With a gasp, his eyes opened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote a really tiny one in one of the early chapters, but I wanted to try my hand at a full nightmare sequence! It was an interesting challenge to start out with, but that got turned up to 11 by the time I was done. Due to various minor mishaps with the new PC I built, plus a busy week last week, I was forced to take this from a few hundred words all the way up to the final revision in about...uh, 6 hours, all told. I really have to stop doing this bc one day it's going to catch up with me 😂
> 
> BUT TODAY IS NOT THAT DAY  
Although honestly this time it wasn't completely my fault lmfao
> 
> Not sure if the execution worked out the best, but it got the point across at least!
> 
> Because I'm a big cheese ball, the line from the last chapter of 'The angel was his light in the darkness' has been taken and turned into something literal!
> 
> All that aside, I'm not sure I would really be a proper writer if I didn't cliffhanger y'all at least once :P
> 
> Next chapter will pick up right here so stay tuned! I decided I'd post it on schedule after all, so next week you guys will get this _and_ my oneshot. A double bill for the holidays lmfao


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In that first hazy, waking second, time felt like it was moving so slowly it might as well have been standing still, and Crowley was unable to move.

In that first hazy, waking second, time felt like it was moving so slowly it might as well have been standing still, and Crowley was unable to move. The only cognizance of the situation that he had was feeling the heavy pressure of Aziraphale holding him down, hands a vice grip on his shoulders. When his eyes focused, it revealed an intense stare aimed his way, as well. It didn't make the hairs on his neck prickle or rouse his instincts the way it had when Aziraphale had been angry the night prior, but it still gave him goosebumps.  
  
When the bubble burst, and he gave that startled jerk and waking gasp for breath, the angel let go of him immediately, only to regroup and sweep him up into his arms, holding him close to his chest. "Oh, thank goodness." He sighed, with clear relief.  
  
"Wha' happen?" Crowley slurred, pressing his cheek into Aziraphale. He felt weird, but his angel was warm, and that was nice. He was panicked, to some degree... sweat had matted the short hair at the back of his head and his heart was certainly going a mile a minute. But more than that he was disoriented. Somehow it didn't allow him to go into a full on attack, though. Judging by the state of him, maybe he'd already had one in his sleep. He wouldn't be surprised to find that out.  
  
"I don't know. I..." Aziraphale trailed off, grasping for words that didn't come. He looked quite stricken, not having a decent explanation to give for what had happened. "You must have been having a terrible nightmare. You were thrashing more violently than I've ever seen you do, and my usual methods of waking you weren't working. I feared you would hurt yourself if I didn't do something, so I pinned you down. I'm sorry, Crowley. If I was out of line, I..."  
  
Crowley shook his head against the other's chest. "Nuh." He sat up, despite being a bit dizzy, to try and look up at him properly, then promptly tipped back over onto Aziraphale. "How'd you wake me?"  
  
"My dear, I told you. I _didn't_. I couldn't. I tried, but you wouldn't wake."  
  
Another stubborn shake of his head. "Y'did. Y'_did_. I know it was you."  
  
"I don't know. The only way that might be possible is..." "Perhaps I was... worried enough that I began to use that power without realizing."  
  
"I'm sor--" The word died on his tongue at the look Aziraphale gave him. He could _feel_ it even without the ability to look straight at him.  
  
_"No_." It was said just as firmly as the last time... except, this time, Crowley was able to interpret it correctly. It was simply an admonishment to help encourage him to kick the bad habit. "Oh, love. I'm so glad you're alright. If I'd known this was in store for you, I'd have kept you awake a while. I'd have..."  
  
Crowley interrupted him with another shake of his head, moving to crawl on top of him properly, curling up once there. "Mm-mm. Y'can't blame yourself, Angel. Couldn't predict something like that, y'know? 'S nobody's fault 'cept my stupid brain."  
  
As the room settled into silence, Aziraphale found that, when he got right down to it, there was no way to dispute that. Crowley's brain had been behaving in a troublesome way for quite some time. They'd had _some_ success in taming it, but it was clear to him that he'd have to redouble his efforts.  
  
After a while he nudged him, gently. "Crowley, are you... alright, to talk about what happened yesterday?"  
  
"I don't even _know_ what happened yesterday." Crowley replied honestly, eyes unfocused as he stared down at Aziraphale's chest, rising and falling steadily under his head. "I'm... kinda scared, if I'm honest. I blacked out. Don't like that. And now I'm having fucking nightmares that are worse than the other one."  
  
"I don't think it's an indication of anything sinister, knowing what I do about how your mind works. I think that you just got very overwhelmed, and it didn't know what to do. It... 'short circuited', I believe is the term. Your nightmare likely occurred as an aftershock from that."  
  
"And what are we gonna do about that?" It sounded almost pathetic, spoken into his chest.  
  
Aziraphale's hand slid against his back, soothing him. "You let _me_ worry about that for now, love. It's best for us as a unit to focus on your more immediate recovery for now. Bounce you back from this."  
  
"But, I--"  
  
Aziraphale fixed him with that look again. "If you're going to say what I suspect you're going to, you might as well save your breath. I asked if you were ready, and I got my answer. I'm not going to hear any arguments over it now. I want you to _relax_. That's all you need to worry about for the moment." His voice was firm, but gentle, and it softened further as he moved his hand into Crowley's hair. "We have all the time in the world to work on you, Crowley. I know it's easier said than done, and I can easily understand that you could feel frustrated with the way things are... but, please, _stop_ putting pressure on yourself. Stop pushing yourself so hard. You've no need to prove anything to anyone, and certainly not me. There's no schedule to stick to here. Trying to rush things will only hurt you in the end."  
  
Crowley hadn't much to say in response. From this very situation, it was obvious that Aziraphale was right. That was what had happened here. He'd pushed too hard before he was ready and ended up hurting himself.  
  
"It's time for us to take a break and care for you in a different way for a while."  
  
"Still, shouldn't we... Iunno. Ought to tell you 'bout the nightmare, yeah?"  
  
"No, that's alright." Crowley still looked like he wanted to protest more, so, feeling a bit exasperated, he continued. "Darling, please. _Later_. I promise I'll ask you about it at a better moment. I'm not going to forget, and I know you won't, either. For now, just... let me help?"  
  
Despite the situation, Crowley's heart still managed to lurch. Normally he didn't put too much stock into moral messages and other concepts that could be picked up from human media, as a decent chunk of it could be boiled down to the utter bollocks of 'be good so you go to Heaven'. But... back in the early '70s, he'd taken to watching a bit of TV once in a while. One of many temporary distractions he'd used to try (and fail) to get his mind off of the Holy Water business.  
  
There was a weird sci-fi show that had been riling up the humans at the end of the previous decade, and he'd had nothing to do with that himself, so in his boredom he'd decided to see what the fuss was about. Unexpectedly, he'd been enthralled. Even now, almost half a century later, he remembered a certain pair of episodes very distinctly. Within them, those three words... 'let me help', had been set up to represent an even greater expression of love than the actual words 'I love you'. Something about that message had stuck with Crowley, despite his usual feelings about such things.  
  
So, to hear Aziraphale say it now, during this turbulent time... even though the angel had no clue what he was saying, it flared up the love inside of Crowley until he ached.  
  
It was like Aziraphale _felt_ it. "I've some ideas." He said, meeting Crowley's eyes when he finally picked up his head and turned to him. "To help relax you."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. Is that alright with you? Really, Crowley. I mean this question when I ask it. Will you let me help? Can you?" It was clear that he hoped the answer was yes, but he wasn't going to force Crowley.  
  
The additional delivery of the phrase made him let out a low whine, prickling the part of him that had that tendency to make him get tingly. "Always, Angel." He said, finally, sighing it out. In a moment like this he almost always got an extra shot of that feeling that Aziraphale was too good to him.  
  
But it was always so hard for him to keep that up for too long when Aziraphale touched him the way he did, spoke to him the way he did. These two parts of him were constantly at odds, the part that felt he didn't deserve him, and the growing, fledgling part that Aziraphale was working so hard to foster within him that made him feel like he was worthy.  
  
"I think we should start with a nice, hot bath. How does that sound to you?"  
  
The word 'bath' briefly peaked Crowley, after its cameo in his nightmare, but he did a good job at reminding himself that this wasn't Hell's bathtub they were talking about here, this was their bathtub. In their flat, in Mayfair, London, United Kingdom, on fucking Earth.   
  
Taking a bath with Aziraphale was one of the safest things he could possibly do, really. "Oh, shit. Sounds amazing." He said, and meant it. He loved the way it felt to bathe together, now.  
  
"Good."  
  
Aziraphale had apparently decided he didn't wish to go to the trouble of adhering to the human trappings _at all_ today, because the next thing Crowley knew, he felt the pleasant warmth of chest high bathwater against his skin, and he was sat there, settled snugly between the angel's legs.  
  
"It's alright, isn't it? That I've done this." His tone indicated a bit of remorse that he hadn't asked, explicitly.  
  
Crowley nodded his head, though, adjusting himself in his spot so he was as far back against Aziraphale as he could get. "Yeah, Angel. 'S perfect." Crowley was lazy on the best of days, but he felt particularly so today. Lethargic, even. It was actually quite nice that he hadn't had to move at all to fulfill their goal of getting to the tub.  
  
"Alright."  
  
After a moment of silence, punctuated only by tiny drips of water from the tap, he spoke up to Aziraphale. "Angel?"  
  
"Yes, dear?"  
  
"Talk to me."  
  
Aziraphale's arms settled against Crowley's legs. "And what would you like for me to talk about, beloved?"  
  
"Don't care. Anything. Just wanna hear you."  
  
He could hear Aziraphale's smile in his tone when he spoke again. "Shall I tell you a story about a bastard angel and a kind demon?"  
  
"Mmf." He could tell it was supposed to be a joke, at least mostly, but he was curious of what Aziraphale might say. How he might tell their story. "Suppose you might do."  
  
"Well, it is _quite_ a long story, so perhaps just the first part will do, for now. Like all good stories are wont to do, I suppose... it began in a Garden."  
  
Crowley smiled and settled back into Aziraphale, focusing on nothing but the sound of his voice.  
  
"You see, the angel was there as a guard, to start with... but his actual function was something more like childcare duty. He was supposed to be making sure that the Lord's new creations had everything they needed and that they stayed well. It was a quite repetitive job, however, and after a while he became bored. He began to sample the delights of the Garden for himself. It could have been that he was a flawed creation from the start, but _that_ certainly ruined him, if not."  
  
Crowley was a bit rankled by the description of his angel as flawed, but Aziraphale's hands running slowly over his arms soothed that away. He hadn't meant anything by it. It had merely been embellishment.  
  
"Once he'd partaken of the fruits, it was _definitely_ all over. His duty was all but forgotten, and all the angel could think about was when he would get to try more of them. The taste was something he just couldn't get enough of... oh, all of them were simply divine. He had a particular fondness for the pears, though."  
  
The aside made Crowley laugh, and Aziraphale leaned around to give him a kiss on the cheek for his trouble.   
  
"One day, a large snake appeared in the Garden, a demon that was clearly intent on making mischief. The events became a bit muddled at that point, but the serpent spoke, used his guile, and convinced one of the Lord's creations to partake of the fruit, as well. Now, the angel technically wasn't supposed to be eating the fruit... but the humans, they _definitely_ weren't supposed to be. They'd been explicitly told _not_ to do such, in fact. The moment the fruit touched the human's lips, she disobeyed a direct command from the Lord. It was the Original Sin."  
  
Crowley hummed. "Doesn't seem to me like he was so kind, after all, causing all that trouble. I mean... the Original Sin? Sounds like some serious stuff."  
  
"It soon became clear that there was more to the demon than what was shown on the surface, though, my dear. I'm getting to that part."  
  
"Oh, yeah? Tell me."  
  
"Well, after the Original Sin had come to pass, the serpent slithered up the wall, and to the angel's surprise, took human form. Well, demon form, I suppose. Wings and all. Together they watched the humans, who had left the Garden of their own accord, after gaining Knowledge, from that vantage point. Now, the angel, at first he was definitely what you would call guarded. This was a demon, after all. He wasn't supposed to be talking to one of them. But, still... somehow, it seemed like he couldn't help himself."  
  
It rather seemed to Crowley like he _still_ couldn't help himself, if the way his hands were laid against him were any indication. He could feel the fondness in that light press of Aziraphale's palms.  
  
"He was more comfortable than he really should have been, and did something that was objectively quite silly. He ended up letting it slip to the demon, his enemy, that he'd given away his weapon, bestowed by Divinity, to the humans upon their escape, and goodness, the look on the demon's face when he gained that knowledge was a sight to behold. He didn't look like he wanted to take advantage of that information... but, rather, he almost looked impressed. The first rain came, shortly thereafter, and... it was almost like an instinct, but the angel put out his wing to shield the demon from it."  
  
Crowley smiled, and his hand found its way over to fondly stroke Aziraphale's thigh. He felt an extra surge of affection, thinking about it. That had been the moment he'd fallen in love with him, after all. "Not getting how the angel's a bastard, either. Sounds pretty nice."  
  
"Hush, now. _That_ is another part of the story entirely. One that I shan't _ever_ get to if you keep interrupting me."  
  
Crowley grinned to himself. "Sorry."  
  
"You should be! How ill-behaved." The words were scolding, but the tone was absolutely not. "It has been long rumored that the angel and the demon were fond of each other's company, even from that very first meeting. They continued to bump into each other, after. Now, this is where the demon's kindness starts to come in, so... do pay attention, dear."  
  
"Wouldn't dream of doing otherwise."  
  
Aziraphale's hands came to rest on Crowley's shoulders, and he gingerly dug in with his thumbs, pressing them into the meat of him, tending to some of those poor muscles that he'd strained so much the night before. "There was to be a Great Flood. At this point the Lord had become... quite displeased, shall we say, with her human children. She decided to start anew. The problem with that was... She'd decided to do so by drowning them. All of them, save for one man, and his descendants. An ark was built to house that family, and two of each animal species, to keep those going after the Flood. The angel had learned of the plan to drown the humans, and was quite distraught over it, but he could not question the Lord's wishes. He visited the site of the ark, and ended up running into the demon there, as well. One thing led to another, and he relayed the plan to the demon, who was also quite upset by it, particularly by the thought of the deaths of the children. This was quite a different reaction than the angel had been led to believe a demon would have to such a thing, and it made him curious."  
  
The caress of Aziraphale's hands against his slick skin was pleasant enough, but when said hands moved to make a pass through his hair, Crowley's chin became very interested in tipping toward his chest. With all the determination he had in him, he stubbornly stayed upright so he could keep to his word and listen to the story. "It did?"  
  
Aziraphale's hands returned to his shoulders, and he added in some firmer squeezes, between the kneading presses of his thumbs, and for his trouble received a low noise of appreciation from his demon. "It did. He stayed around the site for a time, observing. Sometimes, when he was observing... the demon didn't notice him. When the demon thought he was in privacy, when he thought he had secrecy, he did things no demon would do."  
  
Crowley sighed, letting his head tip back, now. "Did he?"  
  
Aziraphale pressed a gentle kiss into the curve of Crowley's shoulder. "Yes. The demon was quite fond of children, and they were fond of him, as well. This was the first of his traits that the angel had noticed and found to be rather at odds with what he had heard about demons. He was clearly very pained by the thought of what was going to happen to them, and that was something he didn't hide quite so much when the angel wasn't around. He had a particular fondness for orphans. Those with no parents, no family, no one that would try and protect them when the event came to pass."  
  
He paused again, but Crowley was remarkably silent this time.  
  
"The night before the rain was to intensify, and truly kick things off, the demon did something quite virtuous indeed. He gathered up every orphan that he could, and he took them onto the ark. He hid them among the animals, and left them with enough--quite miraculously unspoiling--food to get through the duration of the Flood. They survived, solely because he was kind. They lived on because he acted selflessly and saved them, unable to bear the thought of their deaths. He didn't have to do this, and risked a lot to do it, in fact, but he still did it. What else is that, if not kind?"  
  
Crowley let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "I... alright, now I can see a bit of how the angel's a bastard." He huffed out a little laugh, turning to look at Aziraphale over his shoulder. "I didn't... realize you knew."  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "Well, my love, you weren't supposed to. I did quite a good job at hiding from you, and I would like to have that acknowledged, thank you very much!"  
  
The laugh Crowley gave this time was a full one, in response to the joke, and it shook him within Aziraphale's hold. "Proper James fucking Bond you are, Angel." The angel smiled at him from behind, leaning forward to rest his chin against the top of Crowley's head where he was slouched down.  
  
"And, is there more to the story about the angel and demon?"  
  
Aziraphale scoffed playfully. "Of course there is. It's still ongoing, even! There's _so much_ more. I've already told you, it's quite a long story. We've barely scratched the surface! But good stories are made to be savored, my love. It wouldn't do to rush through it."  
  
"Mmf. I'll trust your word, Angel. You're the expert on stories if there ever fucking was one." He smiled, moving a hand up to cover Aziraphale's arm as he held him.  
  
"Oh, goodness, Crowley. It does my heart good to see you so soothed." He hummed, kissing the nape of his demon's neck. "Looking at you, I wouldn't be able to tell you had a nightmare this morning if I didn't already know it."  
  
Crowley suddenly decided to turn around, and the water splashed as he hauled himself up enough to settle into Aziraphale's lap, winding one arm around him, using the other to take his hand, and resting his chin on his shoulder. "I heard you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"At the end of my nightmare." Crowley moved his head enough to kiss at the curve of Aziraphale's neck, in an obvious mimicry of what the angel had done for him, a while ago. It had felt nice, and he wanted to give that feeling to him, too. "I heard you... calling me. You called for me."   
  
"I did... I mean, _of course_ I did, but... how did you...?"  
  
Crowley shrugged, tiredly. "Dunno."   
  
"What did you hear, exactly?"  
  
Crowley sighed, letting his eyes close. "You were... asking me to wake up, 'n then I did."  
  
"How in the world..." Aziraphale muttered, and he could barely hear, but he still did, somehow.  
  
It was certainly a curiosity, how he could've heard him; actually, _genuinely_ heard him, when deep in the claws of his nightmare... but one that could be explained later. It didn't matter. Not now, anyway. All that mattered right now was Aziraphale's hand in his, and the feel of him, there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late, y'all! I leaned in _way_ too hard with that oneshot I was writing concurrently with this chapter and it sucked out all my creative juice. Needed a bit of time and some sleep to recover so I could finish this 😂  
Btw, that's over [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908572) if you wanted to give it a read!  
Giving myself 150 points for finding a way to work a Star Trek reference in here too lmfao


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the time after Crowley's meltdown (it had been about a week since, at this point) Aziraphale hadn't left the flat again. The bookshop once again sat unopened, but this time it couldn't be farther from his mind.
> 
> The thing that _was_ on his mind was very simple: just what he was going to do with his ailing demon. He'd been caring for him in a rather rudimentary way so far, but he'd just begun to think that perhaps Crowley was ready to ease back into some treatment. It seemed worth trying, at any rate.

In the time after Crowley's meltdown (it had been about a week since, at this point) Aziraphale hadn't left the flat again. The bookshop once again sat unopened, but this time it couldn't be farther from his mind.  
  
The thing that _was_ on his mind was very simple: just what he was going to do with his ailing demon. He'd been caring for him in a rather rudimentary way so far, but he'd just begun to think that perhaps Crowley was ready to ease back into some treatment. It seemed worth trying, at any rate.

He imagined just about the first thing he could do, now that Crowley had stabilized a bit, was to try to do more with the exposure therapy. They'd done a bit of work as far as addressing the deeper layers of Crowley's trauma; those wrinkles in their history were steadily being ironed out, so the practical preparation was likely where things had been found the most wanting, really.   
  
He hadn't done enough with all of that in order to help counteract that downright horrible association Crowley had with him, the shop, and fire. Any combination of two of those things was enough to make him antsy, at best... and his response ranged up to a full panic, depending on _which_ two things they were. He currently stood absolutely no chance against all three of them at once.  
  
It wasn't the _only_ stumbling block that had led to the course of events, but it felt like it was easily the most severe one. Thankfully, it was also one that could be remedied in a fairly simple fashion, given enough time and practice.  
  
Crowley, meanwhile, had his mind running in the opposite direction. He was very keenly aware that the bookshop hadn't been opened, and each day that went by made him feel worse about that fact. While he appreciated that the other was staying home with him, it also made him feel guilty, like his weakness was holding Aziraphale back. He didn't full on hide from him like he had the last time he felt like this, but he did sulk, and _a lot_.  
  
Aziraphale didn't really need to ask him why, but did so anyway. "Why so blue, my dear?"  
  
"I just... feel bad, I guess. Guilty. You keep having to put stuff on hold because of me." Unlike the last time he'd laid bait, this time he actually received an answer. That, at least, was a good sign.  
  
"I haven't put anything on hold because of you, Crowley."  
  
Crowley shook his head stubbornly, unable to accept it just like that. "You have. The shop... you were having fun going there every day, and now you're stuck home with me again. Doesn't feel fair for you."  
  
"Running the shop is a hobby more than anything else. It's always been, really, but now it's even more so. I do enjoy it, but it's not something I would consider _vitally_ important at this point. You needn't feel guilty about that, or anything else, for that matter. I'm in no hurry to get back to it."  
  
He drew Crowley into his arms properly, bringing him over to rest on his chest.  
  
"Dearest... _you_ are the most important thing in my life. The thing I love most in this world... it's not some pile of stones and wood, it's you. I can assure you that I'm not _stuck_ anywhere. I've made this place by your side entirely of my own free will. You haven't asked me to, I've chosen to. Being here to nurture you during your hardship is what feels right for me to do, and I'm going to stay put at least until you've come out of this. If you want me out of your hair afterwards, that's fine. But for right now, you need me, and I _know_ you do."   
  
"Never gonna see you as being in my hair. I _like_ you being close. Don't mean to say otherwise." Crowley sighed, burying his fingers into the fabric of Aziraphale's shirt. "But I dunno, I just... I feel like I'm _too_ needy. I ask too much of you."  
  
"No, you don't. Crowley, it's _okay_ to need me. It isn't an imposition on me, and it doesn't make you weak at all. I keep telling you this, but only because I firmly believe it; you are _so_ strong. Needing me doesn't change that, admitting so is simply a part of it. Part of being strong is knowing when you need to lean on someone else. You don't have to do _all_ the fighting on your own, you know?"  
  
As a whole, there was no objection he could raise to the point that Aziraphale was making. This was why he loved the fact that he had such easy access to these explanations. Aziraphale knew how to put things so he would get them, and he would do it quite freely. He knew how to make things make sense in ways that they wouldn't have otherwise.  
  
Even so, he still couldn't totally shake the feeling he'd developed that he wasn't putting in enough effort. "Yeah, but... I should be doing more of it on my own. I don't think I do enough. Feels like _all I do_ is lean on you."  
  
"I can assure you, my love, _you_ are the one that's been making the progress. Anything that I've done has simply been a conduit for that purpose. I'm here to help you with the tools, and give you other support, but the accomplishments are all yours, in the end. You should be proud of yourself."  
  
It made Crowley stop and think a bit, again. When he got down to it, he could see Aziraphale's point here, too. At the very least, he was a lot better than he'd been. His current state was still far from ideal, but when compared to where he started... he really had come a long way already.  
  
"If you're willing to get up, I'll see if there's something else I can teach you today. Let me help you to help yourself. This is my best compromise, I think. Does that work for you?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Alright. Good." A change of plans, in that case. The exposure therapy could wait a bit longer. For now, it seemed like something a bit lighter was in order.  
  
Crowley wasn't in a particular hurry to move, though. Aziraphale indulged him, let him keep lying there for a while. Perhaps just a bit longer than he really should have, but he couldn't help it. This was Crowley, and in particular this was a _hurt_ Crowley. Delicate handling was the only path he could take. It was the only thing that felt right. Eventually, though, he nudged him and began to stir under him, attempting to encourage him to rise. "Up, now. Do this for me, and I'll reward you after."  
  
Crowley's ears perked at the word 'reward'. Normally he wouldn't mind doing things for the sake of it, but with how he'd been feeling, it was a welcome motivator. "Dunno what it is, but I want it."  
  
"All you have to do in order to get it is make it through this. You can do that, I know you can. It will be easy for you. You're always so good for me, and you try so hard."  
  
Crowley had a brief, full body shiver, and goosebumps rose on his arms. That familiar, pleasant rush had hit him, except the strike of it was a bit more pointed than usual. Perhaps that was due to the fact that he hadn't expected it. Or it was his blues, maybe. Or both. "Mmf. Yeah."  
  
Aziraphale waited a moment longer for him to actually move, but when he didn't, he took matters into his own hands for real this time. "Up. Up, up, up. I've been indulgent enough with you for now. I've got work for you to do." He said, placing his hands on Crowley's shoulders to start gently pushing him upright.  
  
"Alright, alright." The demon grumbled, shuffling off of him finally, flopping up into a sitting position in the middle of the bed and wearing an expression very much like the one that someone's pet would wear when they'd been woken up from a nap. "What are we doing?"  
  
"Nothing too taxing. Thankfully for you, you needn't move any farther than that. I just needed you to sit up."   
  
Now his expression had twisted into something that looked very much like a pout. "Should've told me."  
  
"I somehow doubt it would have caused you to move any faster." Aziraphale laughed. "I think perhaps something short and sweet will work best for now. We'll save the hard hitters for when you feel better."  
  
Crowley found that he couldn't argue with that, so he didn't. He just nodded in response. He honestly didn't know if he could handle anything super heavy at the moment, with how off-kilter he felt. Aziraphale was getting to know his tolerances pretty well by now, so he could probably just about sense that, too.  
  
"What I have in mind right now isn't so much something _brand new_ as it is a combination of things you've already learned."  
  
Crowley's brows knitted in confusion. "I don't get it."  
  
"You will, once we get going."  
  
A noncommittal hum was his only response, at first. He was still confused, but he trusted Aziraphale. "Okay."  
  
When the angel moved up behind him, positioning the two of them just so, the picture of what he'd come up with began to paint itself. "If you're up for it, how about we do another guided meditation to start with? It would help get you in the correct mindset for what I'd like to have you try out."  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Great." With a snap of his fingers, Aziraphale summoned the correct book, opening and balancing it on his thigh while he navigated to the section he wanted. He did that with one hand, and gently drew Crowley in to lean on him with the other. "Now, this time... try your best to bring your focus inward. Don't put it on me, if you can help it. I shall endeavor to be the least distracting I can possibly be, to facilitate your efforts.   
  
Based on how it had gone last time, Crowley didn't know how well he would perform at that, but he'd give it a shot. "I'll do what I can."  
  
"Right. That's all I can ask of you, love." Aziraphale smiled, leaning forward just a bit to press a kiss to the back of his neck before straightening up so he wasn't touching Crowley other than the point of contact his chest had with the demon's back. "Now..."  
  
_Begin by closing your eyes. Draw in slow, deep breaths. Relax as best you can, and let the tension in your body fall away. Focus intently on any outstanding levels of tension, if there are any... and imagine the muscles in that area becoming loose, becoming relaxed... letting that tension go. Feel it softening and giving way... feel the muscles as they loosen, gradually, steadily, as if they're melting into a state of relaxation._  
  
As had happened the last time, Crowley felt a pleasant shiver in his spine at the way Aziraphale's voice changed when he started to read the meditation passage. He'd had some additional exposure to it in the time since, as they'd added in that fairly routine occurrence of Aziraphale reading to him when he came home from the bookshop at night... but that being said, it was never quite like this. It still got to him just as much as it had before.  
  
_Take a moment to feel the surface that you're sitting on. Feel the softness of the mattress under you, supporting you. Feel how that support remains, and how the support behind you remains. Note how they stay with you, even as you shift your weight and transition into a calm state._  
_  
Know that you are safe here._  
  
There was no way Crowley could possibly begin to question that. He knew he shouldn't have the capacity to question it anyway, at the moment... he wasn't supposed to be focusing on his thoughts, but he couldn't help but catch onto that one, for a time.  
  
_There's nothing you need to be doing right now, and nowhere you need to be, except right here. Relaxing, taking this time for yourself. Remember to allow your thoughts to happen; don't try to fight them, but let them flow through without focusing on them._  
  
Crowley wiggled in his spot a bit and tried to refocus, feeling almost called out by that last bit of the passage.  
  
_As you continue to breathe slowly and evenly, turn your attention to your body. Notice how you're feeling physically. Without trying to change them, simply become aware of the sensations in your body._  
  
_Rub your hands together, feel the friction between your palms. Feel the surface of your skin warming up a little. As your hands are warming, the motion is also working to relax them. Now place your hands in your lap, and just take a moment to notice the warmth that you've generated there. It's soft. It's pleasant._  
  
_Let that pleasant feeling spread out from your center, and let it take you. Let it anchor you to this moment and fill you with calm. Perhaps you can visualize it as being submerged in a soothing bath, or wrapped up into a warm hug. Whatever suits you best._  
  
Aziraphale was adding in some sprinkles of extra verbiage as he went, but he knew exactly what he was doing here. He knew that the mention of a bath or a hug would bring the image of him, of the two of them together, to Crowley's mind... not enough to take over, but enough to aid in getting him to that deep calm state.  
  
He couldn't have known precisely how right he was, though. He continued to read the passage, but, like last time, Crowley relaxed so far that he lost track of the individual words after a while, and all that remained was the incoherent rumble of his angel's voice.  
  
Also like last time, the tap of Aziraphale's hand on his leg eventually yanked him out, when it was all done, and startled him back into awareness.  
  
"Right. That's all for this one." He hummed, watching Crowley slowly stretch his body parts out to get them back to functioning status. "How do you feel?"  
  
"Good. Really good." He breathed, and it was the truth. Much better than he had all week, for starters. He still wasn't sure he was very good at this meditation stuff, but at least this time he had managed to keep his focus reined in toward himself, like Aziraphale had asked him to.  
  
Said angel brightened at the news that it had helped improve his mood, too. "I'm glad to hear that."  
  
"Y'said that was just a warm up... what else d'you have in mind?"  
  
"I'd like you to do your box breathing for me now, if you would."  
  
Crowley's brow arched, but then he shrugged. "'Kay." He had practiced this so much that he could probably do it in his sleep at this point, but Aziraphale didn't usually ask him to do these things just for the hell of it. He had a plan.  
  
Before he could start on his own, though, Aziraphale was speaking to him again. "Are you ready?"  
  
"Er... yeah."  
  
Aziraphale nodded, and Crowley realized what was happening at the very last second before he opened his mouth and continued to speak. "Breathe, two, three, four. Hold, two, three, four. Out, two, three, four." He guided, despite knowing at this point Crowley was long past actually needing it anymore. "Good, love. You're so good at this now." He praised, upon the successful completion of the loop, giving the demon a little peck to the cheek for his trouble. "You know how that part works. Now, I want you to go through the breathing cycle again, but this time, try to apply the concepts you were using before, at the same time. Focus on the feel of your muscles, from your head down to your toes. Feel your body, and unwind it again if it needs. Stay aware of your vessel while you focus on your breathing. It should help keep you grounded further."  
  
He observed as Crowley did as he was asked -- actually, _more_ than he was asked, as he cycled twice -- and his eyes twinkled with a bit of amusement as his demon ended up back in just about the same state as he'd been at the end of the passage reading. Boneless and damn near asleep.  
  
Deep down, he couldn't help but think this, the melding of his practical mastery of box breathing and the anchoring concepts he'd been teaching him with meditation, might be the key. That this might be the boost Crowley needed, the level up to his skill that would eventually enable him to push past this wall. Or at the very least, that it would do a considerable portion of the heavy lifting to get him to that point. It certainly couldn't do any harm. All it could possibly do, provided that it did anything in the first place, was help him.  
  
It seemed to have done an excellent job of chasing away that cloud of guilt, at any rate. He was quite significantly calmer than he had been earlier. No tension in his muscles, anymore. It didn't even return after some time had passed and he'd had plenty of opportunity to regain it.   
  
"You've done so well, darling. Just like I knew you would." As ever, Aziraphale was proud of him, and he had to let him know it. He doubted if he'd ever be able to keep himself from doing so. It was fortuitous that it also had the added benefit of positively reinforcing him. And, speaking of... "Now... for your reward."  
  
Crowley perked at hearing the word again, looking over his shoulder at the angel expectantly. "What is it?"  
  
To his surprise, Aziraphale shrugged in response to him. "That, my dear, is entirely up to you."  
  
"...huh?"  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him, leaning forward to rest his head on Crowley with his chin pressed against his shoulder. It was a gesture he'd become quite fond of using lately. "You choose what you'd like to do. Anything."  
  
Crowley waited, about half expecting the words 'within reason' to follow, but they never showed up. "Er... I thought you'd have an idea. Sounded like you did."  
  
"Well, I've several suggestions, if you truly can't come up with anything." He offered, scratching lightly over Crowley's back through the thin fabric of his shirt in the meantime. The demon offered a pleased little purr and pressed up against the nails. "But I imagine you can. Think about it for a bit."  
  
He did, although the movements of Aziraphale's hands truly didn't make it easy for him. He was about half tempted to just sit there and stall forever, so he'd keep doing that and keep making those tingles shoot through the whole of him. He made a mental note of the act for later revisiting, then wiggled away with a considerable amount of effort so he could concentrate properly and actually make a choice.  
  
For a while after, he wracked his brain for things that he could do without moving too much. Eventually he settled on asking about something he'd mentioned quite some time ago but hadn't found a good opportunity to bring up again. "I think I've decided."  
  
"Oh? And, what is it?" Aziraphale's gaze was on him, expectant. He didn't look at him, but he could feel those eyes damn near burning holes into him.  
  
"Game of Thrones." He said, vaguely.  
  
"Oh. Would you like to start the next book, then?"  
  
Crowley gave it another thought, then shook his head. They'd surely end up doing that soon enough anyway. "Nah." He looked at Aziraphale cautiously. "Wanna see how you get along with the TV series?"  
  
Of all the things Aziraphale might have expected him to choose, this hadn't really been on his radar. "You want me to... watch it? As your reward?"  
  
Crowley realized he was being kind of boring with his selection, given that he'd had free reign to choose _anything_... but he was still feeling quite lethargic, and the relaxation from the activities he'd gone through had heaped on top of that, so much of anything else would've almost been a chore for him. "Well, 'm gonna watch it with you."  
  
"Ah. Of course." This was one of those instances that his intent could be read between the lines, then. He wanted bonding time, just not that kind of bonding time at the moment.  
  
Something about the answer made Crowley antsy. "Can pick something else to do if you like. Could start A Storm of Swords after all. Wouldn't mind that, either." He offered.  
  
But Aziraphale shook his head, not allowing him to second guess it. While sometimes he would accept Crowley changing his mind like this, right now wasn't one of those times. He wanted to encourage Crowley to think of himself first. He wasn't too great at doing that, even when he needed to, and it was something else Aziraphale wanted to help foster in him. "No, no... it's your choice, darling. That suits me just fine, anyway. Watching, I mean."  
  
Crowley perked up again, finally unwinding from Aziraphale fully to stand up and begin to move from the room. He had a task to perform now. "There'll be snacks involved, 'course." He explained, disappearing from the doorway.  
  
Aziraphale smiled as he watched him go, rising in a relatively quick fashion too. "You needn't convince me any further, love, but by all means, keep making this deal even sweeter for me." He laughed, following behind Crowley. They split off, and while Crowley went into the kitchen to get the snacks he'd promised, Aziraphale stopped to get his demon's favorite blanket for cuddling, the thick and fluffy one, on his way. He draped it across the back of the sofa, then easily picked up the furniture to carry it into the 'office', where the flat screen was. A reasonable person might've moved the TV, but when considering this was an angel who had a stupid amount of raw physical strength, it was quite a trivial matter for him to move the sofa instead.  
  
Crowley showed up shortly thereafter, maneuvering his way through the door with the food he'd fetched. Aziraphale turned to look at him, and the sight he was greeted by was definitely one for the books.  
  
The height of the stack was almost comical. Well, no, not _almost_... even that was putting it too mildly. It _was_ full on comical. He held the base of it at waist level, and only his flame of copper hair was visible over the top of it. He'd brought three different flavors of crisps, a wide box of varied pastries, a large bowl of popcorn, some chocolate, and a fruity candy that Aziraphale had been into lately. A bottle of Merlot was perched precariously on the edge of the pastry box, as well. Crowley set the carefully balanced set of items onto the desk, unstacking them slowly to lay them out. He caught Aziraphale's eye when he was done, shrugging at his quizzical look. "Didn't know what you'd want, so I brought a bit of everything."  
  
"And _this_ is why I call you sweetest, in case you were in any doubt over that." Aziraphale laughed. "How thoughtful of you."  
  
"I'm absolutely the most thoughtful being there ever was, 'sides you." Crowley gave him a little grin, lifting the blanket just enough to slide in with him, settling between his legs. "I have a hunch you're gonna like the music, at least. They kinda nailed the high fantasy feeling. The song they use for the opening is pretty good, in particular. It's earworm-y. Lots of people really like it."  
  
"Oh? That sounds intriguing."  
  
"Yeah." Crowley hummed, wiggling down into the sofa to get more comfortable in his spot. "So, from what I know, should be safe for us to watch the first two seasons. Since we finished up with reading Clash of Kings. 'S what they did at the beginning, used a book to make each season. Toward the end it was original stuff 'cause they ran out. Apparently, anyway. I got bored one day 'n looked up some stuff, just in case."  
  
"I see. Well, they certainly did have a lot of ground to cover in the beginning. I must admit I am quite curious to see how they've adapted some of it for the screen."  
  
"Yeah. Not that we have to sit here and watch it all at once, mind... might actually be better to watch it a bit at a time. Each episode's about an hour long, I think. 'Course, if you end up not liking it, 'cause it's too graphic or something, I can figure out something else." His first thought was most definitely _not_ changing over to that other show he'd been watching as the contingency plan in that case. But then, if he did that, he'd have to start over at the beginning, because Aziraphale hadn't seen any of it, and it wouldn't do to make him jump in at some weird middle point where he'd get confused...  
  
"Shh, love." Aziraphale's voice pulled him back from the edge of spiraling down into those rapid fire thoughts. "I'm sure I'll like it just fine. Don't worry about the details so much, hm?"  
  
Crowley hadn't realized he'd been fidgeting, but stopped it when he did. "Yeah. Sorry." He offered, using a snap to herd the screen into obedience and make it display the desired program.  
  
"No." It was softer than it had been the last few times, but the point was still the same. Aziraphale adjusted behind him, wrapping his arms around Crowley's waist, and gently pulled him back to lie against him. "Don't be sorry. Just... relax. You were doing so well at it a while ago. Keep that up. Don't lose it now."  
  
Crowley sighed fondly at him, turned to lie on his side and curl up on him, and nodded. Settling in for their (potential) marathon; nestled under that blanket, in the ever-present warmth of Aziraphale's embrace, he could do nothing else but precisely that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everybody had a good festive season :)  
I have to be honest with y'all the past week was the worst one I've endured in recent memory (I had a couple of MAJOR mood drops) and having this chapter to work on helped keep me sane  
I always say this but I really do appreciate everyone who pops in to give me feedback and discuss their feelings on the story with me. Having those comments to read through as they came in my email was especially helpful this go 'round <3  
Kinda wild to think this is the last chapter of the year, but here we are! I hope everybody has a safe and fun NYE if you plan on celebrating, and I'll catch ya in the new decade :P (yes that's cheesy as fuck but give me this! the chance only comes around so often you know lmfao)


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To his credit, Crowley's reaction to what he'd done was immediate. He recoiled, flinched as though he'd been punched. It wasn't a wholly inaccurate way of describing what happened, it was just that he also happened to have been the one that had done the punching.
> 
> _Oh, now you've really gone and done it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so: Basically, this chapter and the two that will follow were originally all written together as one chapter. I had to make the call and split it, otherwise this beast would be _completely_ out of control. As a result, we have three, because even _I_ have limits as to how much shit I will dump on you at once. I couldn't even do it as just two, because the first one would _still_ be too much. So this one is here to serve as a prelude to the true meat of the content which will be a (very porny) two parter. I'm really not a good judge of finding the point that it becomes tedious to read a lengthy chapter (honestly I will read anything if the content interests me) but I can almost 100% guarantee you that all of this put together would've been past that point lmfao
> 
> The reason for the absurd length in the first place is due to the nature of the setup this time (I won't spoil it here but you'll get what I mean toward the end of this first part) and the fact that it's all quite dialogue heavy. I also had some specific things I wanted to have them talk about, outside of the context of their healing sessions, so that never helps to make things any shorter. It's also me and I'm fucking insane to begin with. But hopefully y'all love that about me 😂

Today, Crowley had finally started to 'tend' the plants again. A combination of the sprinkler system and lingering terror had kept them alive in the meantime.  
  
The fact that he was up and doing it at all was a win. It was something that Aziraphale had learned to use as a part of his metrics to determine how well he was feeling at any given time.  
  
Hearing him shout was far more soothing than it ever should have been. Aziraphale always left him to his own devices while he did this, since it was Crowley's 'me' time, but due to that one instance that he'd accidentally walked in on him doing it -- the day he learned that he did this in the first place -- he could easily picture the demon stalking through the plant pots, giving them exaggerated glares, while he listened to his muffled voice through the wall. It made him smile.  
  
His thoughts branched off onto a different path then, unbidden, and any ideas he'd had of returning to concentrating on the material he was reading were dashed. He was way too distracted now, but he really couldn't help it. After all, that same day had also marked the first time that they'd done anything intimate together. One of many starting points they'd made since the world had reset. Given the absurdly long span of their lives, a few months was less than a fraction of a blink, but _all_ of their starting points already seemed so far away. Especially in Crowley's case. They were far from finished, and he knew that there may not actually _be_ a finish. There might never be a true end to the demon's struggles, but still, he'd already gone such a distance. It was remarkable. He was leagues better than where he'd been on that day when he'd first crumbled apart.  
  
"Hey, Angel..." Crowley's voice was in his ear, suddenly, as if he'd been summoned by Aziraphale's thoughts about him. Then a pair of hands were on him, slender fingers working their magic over his shoulders and down his front before the arms looped together to give him a hug from behind.  
  
Aziraphale was equal parts amused and curious over the display. "What's this, now?"  
  
Crowley let go of him again, climbing over the back of the sofa to slide into the seat beside him and press tightly against his side. "Was just thinking. You've been taking care of me, again... and I wanna thank you. Not 'cause I think I have to, I just wanna do something for you to show my appreciation. I wanna spoil you a bit. That okay?" He knew Aziraphale would fight him if it sounded too much like repayment, so tried to soften the blow a little bit.  
  
Surprisingly enough, it worked, too. The angel perked up in interest. _"Well_, that certainly sounds promising."  
  
"Whatever you're hungry for, I'll fix you right up. Promise. Doesn't matter if it's food, or... uh, other stuff."  
  
Aziraphale studied him. "It sounds like you've got some ideas already."  
  
"I might do."  
  
"At the moment I'm actually quite sated as far as food is concerned, difficult as that might be to believe." Aziraphale paused, suddenly thoughtful. "Are you sure you're feeling well enough for _that_, though?"  
  
It was a well meaning question, asked with innocent intent... but it was also a sudden and unexpected shift in the direction of the topic, and just as suddenly it snapped something delicate inside of Crowley. A deep frown found its way onto his face, creasing his forehead as he pulled away from Aziraphale. "I'm not a bloody _invalid_ all of a sudden." He growled, before he could stop himself.  
  
To his credit, Crowley's reaction to what he'd done was immediate. He recoiled, flinched as though he'd been punched. It wasn't a wholly inaccurate way of describing what happened, it was just that he also happened to have been the one that had done the punching.  
  
_Oh, now you've really gone and done it._  
  
Shock flickered across Aziraphale's face for a few seconds, but after that brief lapse he took on a more passive expression. He reached out to place his hand on top of Crowley's head, gently petting over his hair in attempt to calm him, the act of which also worked to slowly draw him back in. "No, you're not. It wasn't my intention to imply anything of the sort, darling."  
  
Crowley was quiet for a long time, burying himself against Aziraphale so deeply it was as if he thought he might be able to carve out a space in him to slither into and hide. Aziraphale kept petting him, but stayed quiet too, letting him work through things on his own first. Eventually Crowley worked his way back out of the pit he'd dug and looked up, and it was already clear how he felt about it even before he actually said anything. "Didn't mean to snap at you." He quickly found he couldn't bear to be exposed for long, and he buried his face in his hands, ashamed. Aziraphale had his best interest at heart, just like he always did, and he'd snarled at him like a wild animal. "Fuck, I can't believe I-- you didn't deserve that. You never deserve _anything_ like that. I'm sorry. I'm _sorry_..."  
  
_Unforgivable._  
  
"Shh. There now, it's alright." Aziraphale soothed him, reaching in to gently pluck his hands away from his face, making Crowley meet his eyes. "I know you didn't mean to. But I'm a bit sturdier than that, you know. You needn't worry about me, love. I can take it."  
  
Crowley looked utterly defeated. "You shouldn't have to."  
  
Aziraphale took one of Crowley's hands between both of his, turning toward him on the sofa. "Really, now. I'm not made of glass, Crowley, and I don't want you to censor yourself on my account. I've _never_ wanted that from you, and I'm sure I've told you that before, too. What I want is to see all of you, no matter how ugly you think it might be. If you're struggling, if you're angry... it doesn't matter what it is, I want to see it. If you don't let me see it, I can't help you deal with it."   
  
"I know you're not fragile. Don't care what you say, you'll _always_ be way stronger than me. 'S not about that. It's just... I still _want_ you, y'know? I definitely do. Same as before, maybe _more_. Me being in this weird funk hasn't taken that away. I've done stupid things, 'n my judgement's been fucked sometimes. I know that. I can't blame you for second guessing me after my fuck ups. It's just... even if I've done that stuff, I know my feelings. I know what I want." Crowley's gaze dropped to their hands. "Not trying to justify snapping at you. There's no justification for that, 's not right. Just... I dunno, feel like I should explain what I think made me do it. Try to, anyway. Not sure if it makes any sense."  
  
"It does." Aziraphale moved to hold Crowley's hand properly with one of his, letting the other one drop to rest comfortingly against his thigh. "I didn't intend to tell you what you should or shouldn't do, love. You are your own person, after all. I just worry that sometimes you go too far on my behalf, and I'd like to help keep you from doing that. All I wanted when I asked you that was to have you think about it for a moment before you jumped in head first."  
  
"I get it. Not like I haven't done it before, but you do always tell me not to. You do all you can to make sure I won't do it again. And I listen, Angel. I do."  
  
Aziraphale sighed. "I suppose it may just come down to me being overprotective. I imagine there are few habits that are as hard to break as one that's this old. Not that it's an excuse, mind you. I don't mean to baby you, and I apologize for that. I didn't mean to step on your toes. I just can't have you hurting yourself, Crowley... in any way, but especially emotionally. You've been hurt enough already without needlessly suffering through more of it."  
  
"Y'can't blame yourself for what I do. You do all you can to help keep me from fucking up. If I _still_ manage to fuck up, it's my own fault. _All you do_ is think of me. You take care of me constantly. You know what I need, or you figure it out. I've got absolutely no right to be taking out my shit on you. _You_, of all people. Fuck. I'm so sorry, Aziraphale." He didn't have to get out the 'please forgive me' that was stuck on the tip of his tongue for Aziraphale to hear it in his tone.  
  
"Shh... listen to me, now. You didn't do this on purpose, and you have to let it go. I can understand how it may feel shocking, since this hasn't happened before, but it's not as serious an event as your mind would apparently have you believe. Expecting to always be in a perfect mood would be foolish. _I_ don't expect it of you, and _you_ shouldn't, either. It's not realistic for _anyone_, least of all in a time like this when you're coming out of such a vulnerable state. That can have unexpected effects."   
  
The urge to hold him finally succeeded in beating Aziraphale down, and he let his arms slide around Crowley's back to do just that. He left his embrace loose, left Crowley an out, in case he needed one, but still provided him with his warmth at the same time.  
  
"You're frustrated, and that's perfectly understandable. You can be grumpy. You can get _annoyed_ with me, dear. You haven't suddenly lost your right to do so because we've entered into a romantic relationship. You needn't take the occurrence so hard. I assure you that it's not going to offend me or run me off if you're annoyed with me once in a while. If something about my reaction has told you otherwise, I really must apologize once more. All I'd ask is for you to tell me why, when it happens. I'd like for you to always be honest with me and express your feelings to me. We can't work together to fix something like this if you don't tell me what's wrong. That makes sense, doesn't it?"  
  
Crowley melted back into him, calmed as always by the angel's thorough and perfectly tailored explanations. "Uh-huh. It does."   
  
"It may be difficult to believe, but these things are totally normal. The bumps are going to happen, and we'll deal with them when they do. We've dealt with much worse, haven't we? There's also a massive difference between a bad mood and being deliberately cruel or abusive, love. That's not who you are. I don't think that's ever been who you are, not really." Even when Crowley had been taunting him on the wall of Eden, there'd been no malice in it. It was almost playful. "I realize I've been a bit long winded, speaking about this, but... the main point that I'd like you to take from it is that there's no harm done here. Sweetest, I _promise_ you that. Please don't spare it another thought. I forgive you."  
  
There was a jolt in Crowley's heart at the familiar, emotionally weighted phrase, but receiving it felt a lot nicer than it had the last time. That was good, at least.  
  
"I love _all of you_, Crowley. Regardless of your mood, that doesn't change. I love all of your edges, even if they're sharp, mismatched, or chipped. I want absolutely all of you. It may be a lot to ask, and I know you might need more time. But... eventually, I'd like for you to be able to give it all to me."  
  
Crowley's cheeks burned under the force of Aziraphale's words. "Yeah." He still felt bad, couldn't help it. But, as usual, he was thankful for Aziraphale and how much he understood him. He'd spent a lot of time (and still was, actually) trying to convince himself that he deserved that understanding.   
  
It was good enough before, but now that he'd passed through the corridors inside Crowley's mind a few times, at least beginning to learn the layout, the feeling that the angel just 'got' him was stronger than ever before. "I just feel like I've been nothing but stupid. I hate what happened, I hate the way it's been making me feel. Maybe most of all, I hate that I did it to _myself_. Maybe I'm something of an invalid after all. I've been feeling like a weakling, more than I've felt for a while."  
  
"You're not stupid, my love. Nor are you weak. You're not inadequate in any way. What happened at the bookshop... it simply happened because we haven't properly equipped you to face that challenge yet. It wasn't the time, that's all."  
  
"I know. Deep down, I _know_ you're right. I just... can't help but think I fucked up. Was me that had a hard head and was so sure I could do it." Crowley's brows knitted as his eyes traced the seams in Aziraphale's shirt. "I've been plenty cross sometimes, but at _me_. Not you. _Never_ you. Not for a long time, anyway. Been angry at you in the past, 'course, but not now."  
  
Aziraphale managed to huff out a laugh at that. "I can't say I blame you for that. I've definitely deserved it at points." He rather thought that was quite an understatement.  
  
Crowley finally looked up at him again, then. "Maybe. But what you deserve _now_ is for me to love you. 'M okay enough to do that. I wanna do it, any way you'll let me."  
  
"Sweetheart, there's nothing for me to _let you_ do. Any way you love me is valid. I'll always accept it from you, no matter what form it takes." But no, he quickly decided that wasn't a strong enough way to put it. "I'll always _want_ it, Crowley."  
  
This whole discussion brought Aziraphale back around to a thought he'd been kicking 'round in his head recently. While Crowley had been withdrawn, as was his custom by now, Aziraphale had been using the time to do research in between moments of caring for him.   
  
Now that he'd been armed with access to the 'information superhighway', via the use of his phone, he had the knowledge of the world at his fingertips. Of course, that had come paired with an obvious heavy warning not to believe everything he read, so he tried to stick to only looking at articles and studies that contained properly sourced information.  
  
_Tried_ being the key word. He'd quickly found out that such a quest was much easier to plan than to execute.  
  
But, that said, this time he'd gone down the rabbit hole of learning about the topic of love languages.   
  
As he was a being that had been created with love as his purpose, there were certain things he just inherently knew, without needing to study them. This wasn't one of them. Obviously it wasn't human developed, but it seemed mostly human _defined_. In their endearing little way, they had taken a nebulous concept and attempted to make it knowable. He loved to learn, and as he also had a vested interest in this subject, he'd easily taken a dive right into it.  
  
The instant he'd even brushed up against the facts of it, looking at the list of surprisingly well defined types, he figured it out immediately; which one Crowley fell into. He was a dead ringer for someone who loved with Acts of Service. It was like the description had been written using him as a base, it was that exact.  
  
That was what made him appear to be constantly pushing to 'return the favor', regardless of anything Aziraphale said. That had never been what he was actually doing at all. He wasn't being needlessly stubborn on purpose, no... he was just loving Aziraphale.  
  
The realization made things click together in ways that they never would've otherwise. While they differed on the secondary type, it seemed to him that they were both the same primary type of lover. Both had been trying to follow their heart's guide, which had very insistently told them to do things for the other one, and they'd ended up getting stuck in an endless loop of tiny misunderstandings as a result.  
  
He'd come to the conclusion that this was a large part of why it felt like he'd been constantly butting heads with Crowley over trying to repay him, and why it seemed like he'd made absolutely no progress on that front. It had been confusing him to no end, that there'd been no budge there, considering how far Crowley had come since the beginning. In the end it turned out there was nothing to be done... there _was_ no progress to be made. That was simply who Crowley was.  
  
It was a subject that was probably worth a discussion of a certain depth, to help Crowley understand things too... but _later_. There were more pressing matters to tend to at the moment.  
  
For now, Aziraphale wanted to utilize the tools at his disposal to fully illustrate that things _were_ okay, that Crowley really hadn't done any harm with the minor infraction that he'd blown up to such a ridiculous degree inside his head. So... he supposed the simplest and most expedient way to do that at the moment would be to take Crowley's offer.  
  
With that, he would be giving a show of good faith, showing that he _did_ still trust Crowley's ability to know what he could handle. It _would_ be tested again, after all. In the end he'd have to take his hands away and let Crowley ride the bicycle unassisted once more.  
  
Though perhaps it had been unwittingly so at the time, he'd given that trust to Crowley even on _that_ night, when things had been at their worst. He hadn't lost it, even then.  
  
He also couldn't help but think that doing this would probably provide some assistance in working out some of the emotional tension that was clearly lingering around in Crowley. "If you're still asking about _that_... if you're still interested, that is, I've an idea to run by you. I wonder if you might be willing to... sort of... act out a scenario with me? For a bit of fun?"  
  
"Ngk." Aziraphale smiled as he received the sound. He was beginning to be able to identify the different tones it could hold, at this point. This time it told him that Crowley's surprise was due to the fact that he hadn't expected him to give in. "Um... d'you mean... you want to roleplay?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. I must admit, I'm quite fascinated by the concept. I also can't help but notice that you and I have an unbelievable amount of places that we could draw inspiration from, historically speaking, were we to decide to try something like that."  
  
Crowley had to wonder exactly what kind of shit he'd been reading, what kind of weird websites he'd ended up on. Without a doubt, this definitely directly correlated with him teaching Aziraphale how to use Google. _Clearly_ it was the internet that had given him this idea... somewhere, somehow. It was so obvious it might as well have been tattooed on his face. "Well... I'm not against it, or anything. Does sound like it might be fun. Did you have something in mind?"  
  
He was met with only a shrug. "Not really. When I sat down to consider it, no one thing jumped out at me more than anything else did. I'd been thinking that if this opportunity arose, I might let you choose."  
  
"Uh..."  
  
"If you'd rather not, that's alright. Don't feel pressured. I just thought I'd like to give you the chance."  
  
"Nah, it's not that... it's just... where the _fuck_ do I even start?" There was six millennia of history there for rifling through, after all. Some prickly places that were probably best avoided... but even with those out, it was still quite a lot of ground that could be covered.  
  
Aziraphale knew the feeling, and it made him laugh. "I couldn't say, dear. Just take some time and think about it. See if anything comes to you."  
  
Crowley did. At first, he had a similar problem to the one Aziraphale described. But then something did jump out at him, seemingly out of nowhere. They _did_ have a few moments in time that were more memorable than others, even when throwing away the potentially painful ones. And the one that came to him first was... "How about... I dunno, the day I pulled you outta the Bastille?"  
  
"Oh? I wonder why your mind has gone _there_ first." The angel hummed, looking over Crowley curiously. This was the tone he usually took when his own mind had gone off on its trail of analyzing.  
  
"Dunno." _Was_ there a deeper reason? He guessed there might've been, but if there was, he had no idea what it could be. Consciously, he hadn't gone beyond grasping at whatever straw appeared in front of him first.  
  
"Well, in any case... that choice is fine with me if it's fine with you. Unless you'd like to think about it some more?"  
  
Crowley shook his head. "Mm... nah. 'S fine with me, too."  
  
"Right." Aziraphale gently unwound from Crowley and moved to stand up, pulling his shirt down to straighten it up out of habit. "I'll go and prepare some things, and I'll call you when I'm finished. Is that alright by you?"  
  
Crowley just stared at him as he moved into the warm spot he'd left behind to curl up in it. He was struck by the feeling that he had perhaps underestimated how big of a production this was going to be. "Um... sure. I'll just stay here, shall I?"  
  
"Yes, I think so." Aziraphale gave him a sweet smile, and it made his heart speed. "Don't worry, love. I shall endeavor to be quick."  
  
And then, just like that, he was gone, and Crowley had to wonder exactly what it was that he'd gotten himself into.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Crowley?" Came the call, suddenly, from the other part of the flat. By the sound of it, he'd posted up in the office. Crowley had definitely expected the bedroom... but it seemed Aziraphale had other plans, at least to start with.
> 
> "Coming." He answered, hopping up from the sofa and taking care to move at a pace that didn't completely betray the eagerness he'd developed regarding what Aziraphale had in store for him.

"Crowley?" Came the call, suddenly, from the other part of the flat. By the sound of it, he'd posted up in the office. Crowley had definitely expected the bedroom... but it seemed Aziraphale had other plans, at least to start with.  
  
"Coming." He answered, hopping up from the sofa and taking care to move at a pace that didn't completely betray the eagerness he'd developed regarding what Aziraphale had in store for him.  
  
When he rolled through the door and entered the room, he had to admit he was surprised. Rather than the stone walls of the cell, he found that Aziraphale had created his best approximation of a late 18th century French hotel suite. So, this wasn't set out to be the dungeon scene he might have thought it was going to be. Aziraphale had chosen to drop them in the aftermath instead -- an idealized aftermath that might've taken the place of the real one, had the circumstances been different.  
  
The room as a whole was rather beautiful, he had to admit, but it was nothing compared to what he saw in the far corner. Instantly, he felt his heart stutter.  
  
Aziraphale stood in front of a mirror, taking the moment to check himself over one last time. His hair was puffed up just so, and he was wearing that same stupid outfit he'd been wearing on the actual day, the one that had gotten him in trouble in the first place. He looked just as ridiculous as he had then, and yet...  
  
God, Satan, Jesus, and everybody else, Crowley _wanted him_. Possibly even more than he ever had before. It hit him so hard he briefly thought that he might physically fall over. Aziraphale had charm and charisma swirling around him that he couldn't have even _dreamed_ of having on that day. The fact that he was no longer beholden to Heaven, the way he'd come into his own in the time since the averted apocalypse... those two things had definitely done wonders for him in that respect.  
  
Crowley was about half tempted to throw the whole idea out and skip straight to the part where Aziraphale threw _him_ into bed, if he was being totally honest.  
  
Aziraphale turned, and the smile Crowley received from him almost pulled his heart clean out of his chest. "What do you think, dear?"  
  
"I think you're gonna fucking kill me, _that's_ what I think." Crowley groaned, taking his ability to read the room and turning it into a pulled up snap that produced his matching outfit as well, the centuries old clothes draping over him nicely. For his part, he drew the line at the hair, though. Aziraphale's hair was versatile, as he'd kept it mostly the same for his whole life. But Crowley... he couldn't stand the idea of looking that ridiculous right now. What he'd chosen had been good for the time, but when viewed through a modern lens...  
  
"Oh, but look at _you_." Aziraphale hummed in approval, approaching him finally and breaking his train of thought. "What did I ever do to deserve someone as handsome as you, sweetest?"  
  
Crowley felt his cheeks heat, despite himself. "Dunno. You must be really special, somehow." He grinned, leaning forward to give his angel a quick smooch. "Right place, right time, maybe."  
  
"You know, I think you might be right." On which count, he didn't specify. Perhaps both. "Does all of this suit you, then?"  
  
"Dunno what I expected, but... I like where you're going with it."  
  
Aziraphale eyed him. "I can just as easily change it, you know."  
  
"Nah. 'S fine. Good, even."  
  
"Alright, then." The angel drew back slightly, straightening Crowley's coat collar and brushing off his shoulders. "Well, with that taken care of... are you ready to begin, dear?"  
  
"Y-Yeah. Now?"  
  
Aziraphale nodded, moving away to take his place by the window. A half filled glass of wine materialized in his hand, and he appeared to completely center himself before he turned his head to look at Crowley again. "Well, what would you like from me?"  
  
"...what?" He'd busied himself with adjusting the glasses that he'd belatedly remembered to snap onto his face and hadn't heard him properly.   
  
"Ah. So, you _weren't_ listening." The way his voice sounded made Crowley a bit hot under the collar, and he watched with fascination as the angel took a sizable drink from the glass, trying not to get too distracted watching his throat work, nor with the way it slightly disturbed those obnoxious ruffles while he swallowed down the liquid. "You rescued me. I think it's only fair that I return some sort of favor, Crowley. As I think on it more, I'm not sure buying you lunch was really enough to pay you back for what you've done today. I can't escape the feeling that I should do more to show my gratitude."  
  
"I told you, _quit saying that word_." He hissed, tapping into the quickening of his pulse to add to the scene, remembering how he'd felt the same thing back then. Under a different context, but still. "They hear, and I'm fucked. _I_ won't just get a short note or any other slap on the wrist."  
  
Aziraphale ignored him, making a flippant gesture with the glass. "Anything you want, just name it."  
  
_"Anything_ I want. You really mean that?"  
  
"Yes, of course."  
  
Crowley's eyes glinted with something dark. "You don't think that's a dangerous thing to say to a demon?"  
  
Aziraphale just looked at him, though, completely unperturbed. "If it were any other demon, perhaps. Where it concerns _you,_ however... no." He laughed, watching as Crowley's mouth fell open in offense.  
  
Eventually he closed it again, forcibly restraining himself from pouting so he could realistically keep to his outlined plan. "Huh... y'know, now that you mention it, I think I might still be hungry after all." He said, letting his eyes dip down to Aziraphale's hand, and his fingers idly moving against the wine glass he still held.  
  
The blonde caught him in the act, smiling to himself as he raised the glass to his lips and drained the rest of the alcohol from it, then set it aside. "Really? You've never been one to eat. Have I converted you?"  
  
"Mm-mm. Don't mean food. I'm craving something else." The way he moved as he approached Aziraphale couldn't be described any other way than as a slither. This was the most serpent-like he could get, short of actually changing form again.  
  
Aziraphale watched him with interest, letting his eyes wander over the various moving parts of him. It sort of made him wish Crowley was already naked, so he could see and appreciate the way his muscles flexed while he did this. "And what, pray tell, do you mean by that?"  
  
Crowley moved well into his personal space, stopping just far enough away that no part of them touched. He was still close enough that Aziraphale could feel him breathing if he concentrated hard enough. "What if I told you it's _you_ I want? That I wanted you to fuck me? What would you say then?"  
  
It felt pretty disingenuous to call what they did _fucking_. They'd never _fucked_ up til now, they'd only ever _made love_. In Crowley's eyes, at least, those were two very different things. Late 18th century Crowley and Aziraphale, however... _that_ felt like it had to be looked at differently. They weren't quite the same people as the modern day versions. That was rather the point of this exercise, after all.  
  
Aziraphale considered it a moment. "I'd say you're being crass." He said, but didn't move away at all.  
  
Crowley gaped at him again. "...that's it?"  
  
Aziraphale scoffed. "No, that's not _it,_ you silly serpent. You've never once implied that you wanted to have relations with me before this. Why now?"  
  
The word 'relations' almost made Crowley snort, but he reined himself in enough to maintain the integrity of the scene. "'M a lot better at hiding stuff than you give me credit for."  
  
"Really, now. Just _when_ did this little issue of yours begin, then?"  
  
"I--You mean when was the first time I wanted you?"  
  
Aziraphale's eyes searched Crowley's, having noticed that little catch in his breath. He wondered if he'd taken the banter a step too far, considering Crowley's history with sex, and the unsteady ground he'd been on lately. The demon shook his head, able to read the logic from that glance. "I'm okay." He quickly whispered, breaking character to lean forward and give Aziraphale a peck on the lips.  
  
So he was just an extremely convincing actor, then. That was relieving. Satisfied, he slid back into character himself, regarding Crowley with an altogether different look in his eyes than he had the moment previous. "Yes. You can't exactly blame me for being curious, can you?"  
  
"Guess not. It was 'round the time of the Hamlet business. Back when I was still wearing my hair loose. I thought about what it'd feel like having your hand twisted in it, yanking on it... while you had me bent over somewhere. 'Course, that'd be somewhere totally inappropriate, 'cause I'd made you so hot that you just couldn't keep your hands off me and wait to get to a bed first. And for you... that'd be saying something. Making you lose your grip so fully you'd willingly fuck me over a tabletop? In the back of a stable, maybe? You're so _fussy_, y'know? Dunno what I would've had to do to get there, but it'd be one of the greatest achievements of my life, probably."  
  
It still stoked a tiny ember to life down in the pit of Aziraphale's stomach, despite knowing that the whole thing was an ad-libbed fabrication. "Really. I didn't think you seemed the type."  
  
"Yeah, well... now you know."  
  
"Hm." He looked Crowley over, as if assessing him. "This may be incredibly forward of me, but... will you let me see your eyes, Crowley? Is that alright?"  
  
Again, Crowley almost laughed. All the shit they'd said already, and _this_ was what he was calling forward. "Ah... er. Sure. If you want to."  
  
"I haven't seen them in a long time, and I do enjoy looking at them. So, I really would like to, yes." He replied, giving enough of a pause to allow this Crowley to change his mind before reaching up to gently pluck the dark glasses from his face, setting them aside on the windowsill.  
  
Crowley was soon flushing under his scrutiny, and simultaneously resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. "Listen. You can... just forget about it, if you like. I'll say sorry I asked and I'll leave and we don't have to talk about it again."  
  
"Ah-ah. None of this." Aziraphale tutted at him, eyes meeting the newly revealed yellow ones. "Come now, my dear. I want you, too. You can tell, right? Else I don't think you'd have the nerve to ask this of me to begin with."  
  
Crowley couldn't help but snort this time. "The way you looked at me, earlier? Like _I_ was a fucking crepe you wanted to eat? Yeah, I think I would've figured it out. Did you think I didn't see that? 'Cause I _definitely_ saw that."  
  
Crowley saw him jolt, but Aziraphale resisted the urge to laugh, somehow, and kept his tone level. "Yes, well. I think, with that in mind, surely... you're not going to make me wait any longer." His voice said this, but his eyes were asking for Crowley's okay, peeling away the layers of acting to let his true feelings show through.  
  
The dichotomy made the demon's heart flutter. "Be silly if I did, wouldn't it." He drew closer, sliced down that gap that was already razor thin, until he could feel Aziraphale's body heat. "Touch me. Please. God, I've wanted you to for so long."  
  
"Do mind the blasphemy." He said, but Crowley knew he didn't really mean it. It was just another part of the act. "You were right, by the way."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"I did--do, rather, want to just _eat you up_."  
  
The way his voice went low as he said that did things to Crowley, and his entire body jolted, unexpectedly. A sharp lance of heat went through him with such a force that he was almost certain Aziraphale could feel it too. "Gimme a mark, like you did before. Y'can't just say something like _that_ and _not_ mark me." He whispered, just loud enough for the angel to catch. As if there were an audience they were performing for that he didn't want to hear the direction.  
  
In response, Aziraphale simply closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Crowley's and simultaneously grabbing his arms to guide him backwards, backing him up into the wall. Once there, he broke the kiss and leaned over him, twinkles of mischief shimmering over the surface of his eyes as he dipped his head to instead kiss at the pulse point in the soft area just under Crowley's jawbone. When he actually latched on, it came without much warning and made the demon hiss low in his throat.  
  
A pleased rumble left Aziraphale as he let go again, giving one purposeful lick to the reddening skin. "Oh, you _like it_. Don't you."   
  
_This_ wasn't a question. Well, it _was_, but it _wasn't_.  
  
It became even _less_ of a question once Crowley's hand had found its way into the back of those extra fluffy curls and pressed, keeping his head close and easily encouraging him to make a second mark, next to the first. "Oh, fuck... yeah. _Yeah_. Wanna be covered in these by the time we're done."  
  
"So, you're a greedy lover, is that it? That's probably a good thing, though. Now that I've started leaving my marks, I doubt I'll want to stop." Aziraphale whispered, blowing over the wet skin and making Crowley shiver.  
  
"Don't. Don't stop." Crowley's voice contained just the right amount of whine as he pushed up against that leg that was slotted between his. "Wanna look in the mirror for weeks and see you there."  
  
He felt that smile against his skin, just before Aziraphale pressed kisses to both of his marks. "Mm. But... I think this is a treat I should have in moderation. Right now I'd very much like to peel you out of these silly clothes of yours and see what you're hiding under there, my dear."  
  
The comeback, something about Aziraphale not being able to talk, wearing that outfit, reached the tip of Crowley's tongue, but he held it back in favor of simply replying "I think you'd better." as he let go of him finally.  
  
"Well, then. I think I will."  
  
It turned out that when he said he wanted to peel Crowley's clothes off, he'd actually meant _precisely_ that. He started with the black cravat around his neck, untying it with a motion that seemed very well rehearsed. He'd tied and untied these a lot, then. But that made sense, as in those days he'd been getting bitched at for using too many small miracles. That famous reprimand was the origin of him wanting to do things the long way if he could.  
  
Once that was out of the way, he turned his attention to the jacket, grabbing it by the lapels to push it off Crowley's shoulders, watching as the other pulled his arms the rest of the way out of the sleeves and let it drop to the floor. He then moved in close again, dipping his hands into the vest the demon wore to touch his heated skin through the thin cotton of his shirt.  
  
He kissed Crowley again, easily slipping his tongue past his demon’s lips to taste his mouth, savoring him like one would do with only the very finest of wines.  
  
Sometimes... _rarely_, but still more often than Crowley, Aziraphale agreed with humans. This was one of those times. He had to side with them, when they said that words could only go so far, that actions spoke louder than words. Nothing that he ever would've come up with, even given a century or more to consider it, could've done more to convey the heat that was boiling in him than that kiss.  
  
By the time he broke apart from Crowley again, he had finished the act of disrobing him, and he realized, with no shortage of disappointment, that he had missed seeing most of that, lost in it as he'd been. The dark clothes already laid in a pile on the floor.  
  
His line of sight swept back up from the pool of fabric to Crowley's flushed face, and found the demon's own eyes searching. "You want to ask me something, don't you. I can tell."  
  
Crowley got a bit shy at being called out. "Take yours off too, will you? I wanna see you."  
  
"Are you sure?"   
  
It wasn't a question Crowley had expected, but then he remembered. Previously, the angel had a bit of an issue with this. It was a masterfully played addition. "Yeah."  
  
"Would _you_ like to do it?"  
  
Crowley shook himself back into awareness, bringing himself back from that plane of existence where he'd been admiring Aziraphale's acting. "Huh?"  
  
Aziraphale was watching him with amusement, now. "I'm asking if you want to undress me yourself. Goodness, you're so distracted today."  
  
Crowley's gaze was on him again in the space of a heartbeat. "I find it sort of difficult to think straight when my dick's this hard, yeah. Sue me."  
  
"There's that crass attitude again." Aziraphale tsked at him. "Do you want to do it, or not?"  
  
Crowley rolled his eyes. "'Course I wanna do it."  
  
"Then... what are you waiting for, exactly?"  
  
Crowley didn't respond to him this time, but rather just began his work, wresting the angel out of his jacket. He wasn't anywhere close to being as methodical as Aziraphale had been... well, before he'd gotten lost in that kiss, anyway.  
  
As he pulled those stupid frills from around Aziraphale's neck, he scoffed at him. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"  
  
"How so?"  
  
Crowley just shot him a look, undoing the rest of the buttons on his waistcoat and pulling it off him with more sharpness than was necessary, but it helped to telegraph the irritation of his late 18th century self. "Couldn't stand to be in _peasant clothes_ for a moment longer than you had to be, even though _this shit_ is what got you in trouble in the first place."  
  
Aziraphale smirked at him, though. "And how do you know that for sure? Perhaps I got myself caught on purpose."  
  
The suggestion of that _did not_ help to improve 18th century Crowley's mood. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, and his hands stopped their movements. "Why the _fuck_ would you do that?"  
  
One of Aziraphale's hands, meanwhile, drew itself through Crowley's hair. "To see you, of course. You always come when I'm in trouble."  
  
"Don't joke about that." Crowley growled.  
  
"Oh? Who said it was a joke?"  
  
Now Crowley's forehead was wrinkled deeply with a frown. "Fuck off. You know all you're doing is distracting me more with this bullshit."  
  
Aziraphale grinned at him. "I can't help myself. It's rather fun."  
  
"For you, maybe." Crowley huffed. "If you wanna get naked sometime before this _century_ is over, shut the fuck up and let me take the rest of your clothes off."  
  
Aziraphale did. He kept his mouth firmly shut as he watched Crowley finish his task of unwrapping him. When the last piece fell away, he allowed himself a moment to look upon Crowley, finally.  
  
The two of them were a study in contrast, truly. It was bordering on hilarious, when you actually counted the number of ways they stood as opposites. But, as the old adage went, opposites attract. Both of them found their differences rather complimentary, so that helped, as well.  
  
Crowley appraised him in turn, letting his eyes linger over every bit of him in sequence, as if it was the very first time he was seeing him, all over again. It was very convincing, and it put a shiver into the angel's spine. _"Shit,_ Aziraphale... you look..."   
  
Aziraphale's huffed out laugh was bitter, though. "Fat. I know." The disdainful expression he wore was so close to authentic that Crowley might've thought it was if he didn't know better. Aziraphale had quickly gotten past that tiny bit of insecurity he'd had the first time, after all. Crowley wasn't the only one that was a good actor.  
  
The intensity of it still managed to throw Crowley off his guard, even though he knew it was a facade. "Er... well, maybe, but... that wasn't what I was gonna say. Not at all. Y'think I mind that? Do you?" He stared at Aziraphale, deciding to continue on his own when he didn't answer. "Well, I don't. Not only do I not _mind_... I think you're fucking hot. You look good to me, honestly. _So_ good." He sighed, letting his fingers trail over the whole length of the other's flank, down to the soft swell of his hip, then back up. "Even better than I thought you would. Dunno how that's possible."  
  
Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked, and it took all Crowley had in him to hold back the smile that wanted to appear on his face. He always found it adorable when Aziraphale used the picked up habit, but that was kicked up a notch by the fact that it was an anachronism in this case. "Hold on, you've... thought about me? What I look like naked?"  
  
"Kinda comes with the territory of imagining you fucking me, doesn't it?" Crowley laughed, drawing away from him to drape his body enticingly over the chaise. "Might be hot to do it with clothes on, dunno. I think they kinda get in the way."  
  
Aziraphale found that he had no words to argue with. "Fair point."  
  
"But anyway... yeah, you're... a bit different than I expected." His stare dipped between Aziraphale's legs, and as he watched he had to wonder how much (if any) of that hunger he saw in it was put on.   
  
Aziraphale made an indignant little sound. "And just _what_ is _that_ supposed to mean?"  
  
That hot gaze flicked up to meet his, and the contact made Aziraphale's entire body pulse with want. But somehow, impossibly, that wasn't the peak. _That_ came when Crowley's next words floated over his ears.  
  
"I can't help but wanna suck your pretty cock, is what I mean. Swallow you whole. Fuck, the longer I look at you, the more I _want_ you. I want a taste of you before you fuck me." He said, purposely making a show out of licking over his front teeth. "You're gonna feel so good inside me, Angel. I can already tell, looking at you. Just wanna take a quick detour... that's alright, isn't it? I'll make it worth your while."  
  
The jolt of fresh desire that shot into Aziraphale's veins hit him so hard he barely remembered he was supposed to be in character here. _"Oh_. Foul fiend... how you Tempt me." It was a true testament to his resolve that he'd managed to keep hold of the thread. "What a _vulgar_ mouth you have on you." He didn't sound near as displeased by that as he probably should have. "But they're empty words, are they not? You appear to be quite comfortable like that. Not in any hurry to move, it seems."  
  
"Who said anything about moving? C'mere."  
  
Crowley sat up just slightly, conjuring a pillow to put behind him to hold his top half up at the angle he wanted, and as Aziraphale moved in close, he helped guide his knees into position to rest on either side of his chest, sandwiched snugly between Crowley's body and the curved back of the furniture. Once he was in place, Crowley waited just long enough for both of them to take a breath before moving to take him in.

Aziraphale was inside him... not in the way he wanted most, but teasing him with lips and tongue for a little while was certainly not a bad appetizer to have before that main course, if he were to stick to the hunger metaphor.  
  
If there was one thing Crowley _did_ allow himself a bit of pride over, it was how easily he could turn Aziraphale to jelly with his mouth. It had been too long and he'd done it too many times now for the assertions of 'he's just not used to it' to have any effect at this point. He'd stepped past that and into some real confidence in his skills.  
  
He didn't use those skills to their fullest this time, however. He stroked slowly with one hand, swirled his tongue, bobbed his head a bit... but most of his concentration was aimed toward looking up at Aziraphale through his lashes and maintaining eye contact, receiving the added benefit of seeing him react to everything he _did_ do. He didn't dive in on him like he normally would've done, seeing that his goal wasn't to make him come (this wasn't the right moment for that test of their endurance that he'd been mulling over), but only to escalate Aziraphale's faint arousal into something stronger.  
  
It worked well. After a moment, Aziraphale twitched on that devious tongue, and he took that as his cue to draw away. "Mm. Not too much, now." He said, urging Crowley back with obvious effort. "I... should like to inspect my prize, as well."  
  
Crowley tried to control the heavy breath that fell out of him at that, but only about half managed. "Your... prize?"  
  
_"You,_ of course. It may be your request, but it would be quite disingenuous to say that I'm getting nothing out of it." Aziraphale hummed, shifting to straddle Crowley's legs.  
  
"Oh, _shit_." He groaned, letting his hands settle on the backs of Aziraphale's thighs.  
  
"I don't suppose you have a 'look but don't touch' policy, do you?"  
  
That specific turn of phrase tried its hardest to raise Crowley's hackles, since that was the exact approach he'd felt he had to take toward Aziraphale for approximately sixty centuries, but he fought them down and helped that spike of heat win out instead. "Fuck no, I don't. Touch me."  
  
Aziraphale's eyes trailed down, until he was looking quite pointedly at Crowley's hip level. _"There_, too?"  
  
"Everywhere."  
  
An expression that could be described no other way than as a cocky, not at all angelic grin appeared on Aziraphale's face. "Oh. Well, that certainly makes things easier for me, then. I shan't fight myself."  
  
'Not fighting himself' apparently translated to immediately taking hold of Crowley. It made him hiss in surprise, draping an arm over his slammed shut eyes, and he squirmed as best he could, being pinned between Aziraphale's legs.  
  
His other hand took up a post on Crowley's chest, alternating its touch to tease both of his nipples equally.  
  
He just laid there, blindly taking everything that he was offered, and occasionally pushing up with his hips. As much as he wanted to watch, Crowley couldn't find the strength to pick up his arm.   
  
That changed when Aziraphale's hand uncurled from around him, drawing his attention. Crowley finally raised his arm, to peek at him, only to catch the sight of that hand sweeping down in mid motion of what looked like a snap. Context clues were enough to tell him what that was going to result in, or so he thought.  
  
Just the idea of that had his heart beating harder, and not in a good way.  
  
"No." Crowley said, jumping to grab his wrist and stopping him just before his fingers began to slide against each other.   
  
It had been the real Crowley that had done that, not his character. He'd been scared by something, and the vibe of that was more than enough to yank Aziraphale straight out of it and back to reality, even before he noticed the way that Crowley's breathing had quickened. "Are you alright, my dear?"  
  
Crowley looked down at his hand, holding almost too tightly to the other's wrist, and replayed the events of the last few moments, then snapped out of the drift that sudden fear had pushed him into. "Fuck..." He cursed himself, letting go of Aziraphale's arm quick and sharp like he'd been scalded by it.   
  
Aziraphale didn't touch him just yet, but his voice was soft as the caress of his hand would've been. "Crowley... can you tell me what's wrong?"  
  
The demon worried his bottom lip between his teeth. _"Sorry._ I just... I still don't want you to... do _that._ Didn't mean to... ruin the mood or anything. I know they're not paying attention anymore, that's not what it's about. It's stupid, and it's definitely just _my_ problem, but--"  
  
All at once, Aziraphale realized what had happened. "Oh." He moved, squeezing into the seat next to Crowley, then stopped the rambling by placing his hands on either side of his demon's face, holding his head gently between them. "Oh, love... _that_ wasn't my intent at all. You've made your stance on it very clear to me."   
  
Of course it wasn't. He should've known -- no, he _did_ know. The conscious, thinking part of him knew it well, Aziraphale would _never_ do something he'd asked him not to. The part of him that _didn't_ like to think, but preferred to go anxious for absolutely no reason instead... that one had popped its head up and broke the mood. More guilt heaped on top of him. "Shit."  
  
"I haven't actually said as much, and now I can see that I probably should have... but, here it is, now. I am _never_ going to cross one of your boundaries, Crowley. There will never even be a chance that I could do it unintentionally. When you tell me, I keep them, and I'm _always_ aware of them. In my opinion, someone that would do any less to ensure comfort isn't worth having as a lover. But, nevertheless, there's my direct pledge to you. Keep it close to your heart, and have faith in it." His thumbs gently brushed over Crowley's cheekbones, and he held his head still, looking him deep in his eyes. "Don't you dare apologize or let yourself feel guilty for getting uncomfortable. I _want_ you to tell me so, remember? You haven't _ruined_ anything, you've done the right thing. You've done just what I've asked of you. If anything is wrong here, it's me not communicating and leaving things unclear enough for you to get that idea in the first place."  
  
"Not your fault." _It's mine_, he added in his head.  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. "Enough. We're not going to start that now. It's _no one's_ fault. We need to accept that ruling and move on, lest we get stuck in an endless loop. This was simply an accident, nothing more, and it's one we mustn't dwell on." It was a quick and decisive end to what he knew would happen if he let it go or fed into it by arguing. He knew Crowley better than that by now. "Now, _really_, Crowley. I need a direct answer from you. Do you need to stop? We can do this another time, or not, if it's too much. I've told you... you _never_ have to worry about disappointing me. If you ever need something to stop, then it stops right there. No question. It's _always_ about your comfort first."  
  
"No... I don't wanna stop. I wanna do it. Just got confused. It was just... me being stupid." As soon as he said the last bit, he regretted it. When he saw the way Aziraphale's face twisted, he wanted to take it back. But it was too late.  
  
"No, it wasn't. It's true that I didn't mean to, but I frightened you. You can't help that, and you're not _stupid_ for having a reaction to it. Don't say that."  
  
"I get you. I won't." Crowley closed his eyes, and nodded. "But... I'm fine. Really. It's all fine. Was a misunderstanding, 'n I get it now."  
  
Aziraphale had a hard time fully believing that, but there was nothing to solidly push him in one direction or the other. Crowley's body language was fairly calm, and that wasn't something he was good at faking. "What would you like for me to do, then? Where do we go from here?"  
  
The question made Crowley feel a bit frantic, suddenly afraid of saying the wrong thing. He didn't want to make things worse. His brain grasped for the first thing it could reach. "I... I dunno. I guess you could... um. S-Su..." That first thing turned out to be the worst possible choice. The word stuck to his tongue, and he bit it for its disobedience, avoiding Aziraphale's eyes. "I mean, you... you could... get down there, and... use your mouth on me."  
  
That calm body language melted away as if there had been acid thrown on it. Crowley had visibly trembled.  
  
Clarity regarding what he'd been pondering reached Aziraphale immediately at the sight of that. It was handed to him on a silver platter. So _that_ was how it was, then. Well, that wouldn't do at all. "I think that perhaps dropping this -- at least for now -- would be best, after all."  
  
It was meant to be a deescalation, and normally it would've worked as intended, but it had the opposite effect in this particular case. A cold sensation shot through Crowley, and his tremors got worse. "You... don't want to?" He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and couldn't help thinking he really _had_ ruined it all.   
  
Easily seeing that potential for a full panic response, Aziraphale gingerly placed his hand on Crowley's forearm, to steady him, keep him grounded. When he spoke, it was gentle, and it was slow. "It's not that I don't _want to_, darling. I wouldn't have a problem with it, but it's not what _you_ want. In fact, it's something you really _don't_ want."  
  
"N-No, I'm--"  
  
"Stop." Aziraphale cut him off, and it made him flinch, but that hand on his arm did its job and kept him from flying away. "Easy, now. Breathe." He instructed, for the first time in a while, and Crowley obeyed the command, closing his eyes so he could focus on executing the familiar four second intervals.  
  
The room lapsed into silence for a while, and after some time had passed, once Crowley had completed a few cycles, Aziraphale noted that the tremors had stopped again. "Better?" He asked, and Crowley nodded, slowly opening his eyes to look up at him again.   
  
"Just... need another minute." He looked very much like he wanted to apologize again, but didn't actually do so verbally. The fact he'd held it back, even this once, told Aziraphale his tactics regarding that were working at least a little bit.  
  
"Do you need me to give you some space?" His touch had immediately turned from heated to comforting once he'd realized what was going on, but it suddenly occurred to him that they were naked and he was still pressed very close to Crowley. Normally having him close helped, but there had been a few times that it hadn't, so it seemed a fair question.  
  
He moved to sit up, to back off from him, but Crowley didn't let him, placing his hand on top of Aziraphale's one that was still on his arm. "No. Stay."  
  
Aziraphale nodded. "Alright." He conceded easily, settling back down into his spot. Truth be told, he hadn't wanted to move away. He would've only been doing it if Crowley needed him to.  
  
Crowley was quiet for a while, simply absorbing what had been said and what had been done, but eventually it all nagged at him enough to push him into speaking back up. "Angel, I..."  
  
Aziraphale shook his head, easily able to tell where the thought process had gone. "Shh. Don't worry about that, now. I was never going to do it. I _know_ you don't want that... you couldn't even say it. You were shaking like a leaf in the wind, dear. I would have to be quite incompetent at reading you to miss all of that, even if I didn't already know how you feel about this." Deeming it safe to do so, he moved one of his arms to slip it around Crowley. "You were trying to give it to me as something like a peace offering, Crowley. It's something you've previously forbidden, so it was the first thing you jumped to when the assumption was made that you needed to appease me. You haven't done anything that requires any type of penance, despite any assertions to the contrary that might be kicking up in your head. There's nothing to be made right." He pointed out, choosing to apply logic, if a bit bluntly. He thought if he was totally transparent with Crowley about the facts of the situation, it might help him understand.   
  
And it did, apparently. Aziraphale_ saw_ the moment that the pieces of what he was saying clicked together. Crowley just stared at him after, suddenly comprehending. "Oh."  
  
Aziraphale also suddenly comprehended something. Something important. It changed the angle he had to view this from. "So... what I'm getting from this is that you didn't even realize what was happening."  
  
Crowley flushed and tried to avert his gaze, feeling a bit stupid again. "Guess not."  
  
But Aziraphale didn't allow him to do it, tilting his head up to make him look, and Crowley easily let himself be moved. "This is precisely why I challenge you about these things. You might not be doing it on purpose, but the fact that it's still an option rattling around in your head, conscious or not, means I haven't done my job properly yet. I shall have to try harder to help you get rid of this habit."  
  
Crowley sighed. "Suppose I was wrong, earlier. I don't listen as well as I think I do. Fine enough to say that when I'm calm." He gently headbutted Aziraphale's chest when he was free again, pressing his face against him in what seemed like a very earnest attempt to sink into him completely. It was a repetition of what he'd done earlier, but with even more severity. His voice was muffled as a result, but still clear enough to be understood. "When I get scared, sometimes I still can't make myself think right. I freaked and went on autopilot. Dunno what I can do to stop that... but I've gotta try harder. It's something I've gotta work on more, I guess."  
  
"You're right, it is. Good, love. Very good." Aziraphale couldn't help but feel proud of him for working that out on his own, but he still couldn't let up just yet. "Don't _ever_ trade your comfort away as a bargaining chip. It's just about the worst thing you can do, as far as I'm concerned." The words were severe, but his voice was gentle, and his hands were just as gentle as he urged Crowley back to catch his eye again. "If nothing else, I wish for this to be the point that you take to heart: I'm never going to do anything physical with you unless _you_ actually want to do it. You've laid these things down in front of me as a boundary, and I need you to be absolutely _sure_ if you find that you want to do away with them. Don't ever do that because you think it's what I want. It isn't, and it never will be." He cupped Crowley's cheek with an unreal sort of tenderness. "I may be rightly accused of being a hedonist, but I never want to be selfish with you, Crowley."  
  
Crowley nuzzled against the hand holding his face. "I know you don't."  
  
"I've told you before that there may be things you're never ready for. The existence of those things is perfectly fine. Everyone has their limits. That's not -- and never will be -- what I'm scolding you for. What I'm scolding you for... what's _not_ fine, is you pushing yourself past your breaking point and forcing yourself to try to give those things when you're not able to give them. You understand that, don't you?" His thumb ran over Crowley's bottom lip and dipped to stroke his chin.   
  
The soothing touch had an immediate effect, and he felt Crowley draw in a deep breath. "Yeah."  
  
"Good. Now... I'm going to ask you one more time, and I want you to look me in the eyes and answer me. Do you need for us to stop what we're doing here? This might have been my idea, but that fact should have no bearing on your answer. Do allow me to reiterate once more that the thought of disappointing me is something that shouldn't even be on your radar. I just need you to tell me, one way or the other, so I know. Be honest with me, that's all I ever want from you." He didn't doubt for a second that Crowley would. After all, between the two of them, Crowley wasn't the one that had liked to liberally employ lies in the past. "We've got all the time in the world to do things like this, you know. If today isn't the day, then it just isn't. Ultimately, it's a call that you have to make yourself, but your well-being takes priority, always. I need you to be alright, first and foremost. Nothing matters more than that."  
  
As he prepared to give his answer, Crowley looked directly into his angel's eyes, like he'd been asked to do. "I _am_ alright. I wanna go on with it." His gaze pierced Aziraphale's, and he looked and sounded significantly more solid than he had the last time he'd tried to make this appeal, at any rate.  
  
Aziraphale watched him a moment, then sighed. "Okay." He made no attempt to hide the fact that he was still a bit wary, but it wasn't a decision he'd been willing to make completely on his own, after the mishap earlier on that had been caused, at least in part, by him babying Crowley too much. That said, he'd do what he had to if his demon's well-being was in danger. He _had_ decided that he'd stop this immediately if something else happened. That was a fair place for him to step in and make the call, he thought. He wasn't willing to tolerate any more pushing at Crowley's sore spots for one day, whether it was intentional or not.   
  
But, for now... he was going to leave this in Crowley's hands. He could see the determination back in Crowley's eyes, now. It hadn't been there in the moments before, there had been only fear, and then uncertainty. He didn't want to see Crowley wear either of those things, least of all because of _his_ mistakes. "I do think... if we're to continue this, we should discuss it properly before we go back in. I don't want there to be any other misunderstandings. Let's take a moment, shall we?"  
  
"Mmf. Yeah. Prob'ly a good idea."  
  
It was an idea Aziraphale wished he'd had _before_ they started... perhaps they could've avoided this rough patch, if so. It was down to their (so far) quite singular way of handling this aspect of their relationship and also his relative inexperience, he couldn't help but think. But he knew he had to put it out of his mind, as there was nothing to be done about it now. He couldn't change the fact that it had happened. The goal now just had to be to do better, and make sure it didn't happen _again_. "What are your expectations, love? What do you want from this?"  
  
Crowley felt put on the spot, and fumbled for an answer. "I... I dunno, whatever _you_ want is fine with me. I wanted to take care of you."  
  
Aziraphale's hand slid against his back. "Well, part of taking care of me is going to include telling me what _you_ want."  
  
Despite the comfort he took from that, Crowley swallowed thickly. Aziraphale was still watching him rather intensely. "A-Ah. If you put it that way..."  
  
"I'm listening." Listening, and still staring.   
  
"We... had the dialogue bit of it hammered out. The way our banter was going before was good. Don't wanna change that. So, that just leaves... when it comes to the, uh... the actual sex part? We've gotta do it in a way that makes sense, y'know? You can't just, er... approach things like any other time."  
  
"Meaning?"  
  
Crowley's face heated. Explaining this while Aziraphale was staring at him like that was going to be a task. "W-Well... back there I already told you I was thinking about you, uh... having your way with me somewhere that wasn't necessarily a bed. So... there's that, for a start. You could take that and run with it. And, er, just to clarify... I made all that up."  
  
"Now, when you say 'have your way with me'... what do you mean?"  
  
Those words from Aziraphale's mouth made Crowley's heart beat faster. This time it was in the pleasant way. "Ngk. Um. I dunno, just... whatever. Maybe be a bit rough with me." Saying that sent both of Aziraphale's eyebrows immediately flying toward the ceiling, and he hurried to continue. "I don't mean, like... _hurt_ me. I don't want you to hurt me. What I'm talking about isn't even _that_ rough. I just mean... it's rough for _you_. You've only ever been so gentle with me, Angel, and I love that. It's definitely my favorite thing, when you..." He trailed off, trying to fight the intense burn in his cheeks and ears. It was a battle he easily lost. "When you lay me down and make love to me."   
  
He did his best to ignore the stupidly affectionate way Aziraphale looked at him when he said that, in order to retain his focus and keep talking so he didn't lose his damn nerve. "But it doesn't make sense in the context of this, uh... whatever you wanna call this thing. We've been taking some pretty big liberties with the details, but I think we've gotten the major points of it right, 'n I wanna try to keep that up. We weren't this close back then, first of all. Can't say you would've been all that different if we'd really done all this then, but... doing as you please with me better suits the version of you that you've created here, at least. So... I'm thinking just... for you to do stuff like putting some real pressure behind it when you touch me. And, y'know, move me around however you want me. Guess those points are basically like 'show me a bit of your strength'. You would've done, I think. Could give me more marks, too. If I have a top recommendation, it's that one. Maybe pull my hair a bit, like I was telling you before. That'd make a lot of sense, considering. Y'know, just... stuff like that."  
  
"You want me to..." Aziraphale's brow furrowed. His head was spinning with the 180 this seemed to have taken. "Are you sure you're alright with me doing those things? You've never asked for anything like this before, and you don't sound particularly passionate about most of that."  
  
For an instant he tensed slightly, worried he'd overstepped again, but then Crowley answered him as normal.  
  
"See, that's the thing. _That_ me, the version of me I made, he'd _definitely_ love you to do that stuff. 'Sides, the marks thing? That one _was_ actually me, if you forgot. Like, fully me. I, uh... I _have_ asked for that before, too. Didn't mean it _the way_ I asked it that time, but... y'know." He didn't say so, but the fact that he hadn't asked for most of these things before wasn't really an argument, either. He still wasn't very good at directly asking for things in a sexual context in most situations. He'd been trying to get better at it, and he _had_ made progress, but... he felt like there remained a lot of work ahead of him on that front. "I might prefer you with a soft touch, but I can handle stuff like that, too. I think it'll... make the whole thing more intense if we actually arrange it so what we do makes sense with what we say. Put our money where our mouth is 'n stuff. If you're okay with trying it out, I want to."  
  
Aziraphale looked at him speculatively. "So, let me make sure that I understand you. You're asking me to... be a bit commanding. You think... _that_ me would do that. Is that right?"  
  
"I feel like whatever you're picturing is way more serious than what I've got in mind." Crowley couldn't help laughing a bit at that, and he shook his head. "I'm not really _asking_ you to do anything, those are just suggestions. I'm just... telling you that you can do what you like. You always let me control everything. 'N that's fine, don't mean to say it's not, but... I wanna give you a bit more of the rope here, if you get what I mean. So you can improvise. If you use it, fine. If you don't, that's fine too. Doing what you want with me doesn't have to mean anything crazy. If what you want to do is what we've been doing already, then that's what it means."  
  
_"Ah._ Okay, I understand what you're saying." His grasp of this as a whole was quite limited, but he could see what Crowley was getting at. It would be more fun this way, from the way he made it sound. At least, that's what he was implying. "Obviously I'm a bit out of my depth with all of this, but... I can try."   
  
"'M gonna do my part of the work too. I'll keep giving you ideas, if you want."  
  
Aziraphale's eyes conveyed his appreciation perfectly. "I think that would be welcome. To be honest, I'm just a little nervous that I won't be any good at taking a more active role in steering the ship. You know much more than I do, and I rely on you quite a bit, I find. I don't want it to be dissatisfying for you."  
  
"I can tell you for a fact you're never gonna be able to disappoint me even if you try. 'Sides, you've been doing great so far." Crowley leaned forward to place a single, feather light kiss against Aziraphale's chest. "'S just like being in a play, right? It's an act, a back and forth. You're good at it. Prob'ly since you spent so much time going to see stage shows. Bound to rub off on you sooner or later."  
  
"Well, yes. I'm still quite keen on the main idea, I didn't mean to imply otherwise. This is just a point of it that I hadn't yet considered... but I _am_ willing to go forward with it if you're absolutely certain it's what you want."  
  
"I am, Angel. Listen, I get worrying about what I did just now. Couldn't blame you for that, not at all. But... if you're also worried about stuff that happened in the past, or something... don't be. That doesn't have anything to do with you. You've been nothing but brilliant. Never thought I'd actually _want_ sex. Never thought I _could_ want it, but with you I do. It's taken some time for me to get 'round to accepting that, but... I have, mostly. Still kinda freaks me out at times, how much I want you. I mean, it's just... the way I thought about this stuff before was so much different, and I thought that way for a long time."  
  
Now that he'd started talking, he found it was hard to stop. His truths were spilling out, one by one. "Getting a boner over you was one thing, but when it came down to actually involving you? Fuck, it was _terrifying_. God, I was fucking petrified for the longest time, thinking you'd Fall if I so much as touched you, if I even looked at you the wrong way... but you helped me figure out it was okay to want this with you. Here I am, y'know? Here we are. You helped me not be scared anymore. You're always so patient, and you've helped me work through my shit, no matter what it is. I _want_ you, and I know you'll never hurt me. I might still be kinda weird about it in ways, but I really love what we have now, and it's just you to thank for that."   
  
It was hard for him to keep the eye contact, but in the end he did it. This was one of those moments when he knew he mustn't look away, no matter how badly he might want to. "It's being close with you that I like. Still not sure if I can get addicted to stuff, but the way it makes me feel to bond with you like that is what makes me want it so much. I want that all the time. It's nice. I can always feel it in the background when I'm around you... but it really comes out at a time like that. I've never felt it before, and I might be wrong... but lately I've been thinking maybe that's what it feels like to know where you belong."   
  
Aziraphale's heart swelled with love. "Oh, Crowley."  
  
Crowley's face was red as a beet now, but somehow he still kept his head up. "Actually, I... now that I've started getting better, I can look at it more clearly, and I think that's prob'ly what made me want you while I was freaking out. That's why I _needed_ you so much. Needed the whole strength of our bond there to bust me over the head and help me snap out of it. Needed my place to belong. 'S almost dumb how close to you I always feel in the middle of all that. Dunno if you've felt it too, but... to me, it kinda feels like we... well, we become one, I guess. So... really _had_ to be that. Other stuff would've helped too, but... not like that. Even when my head was fucked up, I think I just... knew that. 'S why I asked you for help that night." It was embarrassing as all Hell, to look Aziraphale in the eye while he was being so frank with how he felt about this subject, but he had to face what he was saying and prove his sincerity.  
  
Aziraphale briefly lifted the cap to let absolutely _all_ of his pride and adoration show, for just long enough that it wouldn't make Crowley embarrassed and lead to him trying to hide, breaking the moment. He could do no less. Crowley deserved to see it. He caught those serpentine eyes shimmering with something, and that was when he put it away again. He couldn't be sure exactly what that was, but it looked like bearing witness to the full extent of it had squeezed Crowley's heart harder than anything before. "To be honest, I'd figured it out... but I'm glad you told me, dearest. I hoped you would."  
  
Crowley's openness was returning, slowly but surely. He was building himself back up to where he was before he'd gotten knocked back, and Aziraphale couldn't have been happier to see that.  
  
"Should've known you'd figure it out before I did. You're clever. 'S how you're usually there to explain stuff to me. Maybe I was a bit slow, working it out on my own, but I still got there. It feels good to put stuff together and know at least something about what's going on in my head, y'know?" He moved to take one of Aziraphale's hands in his. "But I've never thought about any of those old jobs again, after I talked to you about 'em. I mean... I haven't talked to you about _all_ of 'em, but we did the crazy ones. Dunno if I'm _over it,_ but it doesn't hurt me as much anymore. So... you handling me a bit rougher than normal isn't gonna trigger something bad in me, or whatever else you might be scared of. I get why it'd make you worry, and it might be a bit hard to believe me when I say this after what happened a while ago, but I swear you don't need to."  
  
"Are you _sure_ you don't like reading, love? You've just read me like I'm an open book." Aziraphale laughed. "As absolutely stubborn as you can be sometimes, I know you're not lying to me. You wouldn't go to this length to reassure me if this was something you were dreading." That, and his body language would certainly give him away.  
  
Crowley shrugged. "Mm. Nothing to dread, really. Seriously, none of it is a big deal. 'S just a bit of fun. I'm liking it, and I think you are too. So, yeah. If you're alright with doing it..."  
  
"I never knew you fancied yourself such a serious actor, darling. You have such a commitment to keeping the continuity, too! William would be proud."  
  
Crowley's expression was a cross between awed and offended. _"William?_ When did you get on a first name basis with bloody Shakespeare?!"  
  
"Shortly after you and I had parted ways, actually." Crowley could practically see the cogs in his head turning as he recalled the details. "He invited me to the opening night of Antony and Cleopatra, first off. By the way, my dear, I've always found one of the lines used within it to be most curious indeed. I may be mistaken, but I think... that day we went to see Hamlet, he took something that you said to me and kept it, then twisted it to use there."  
  
Crowley cleared his throat, unsubtly. "Funny thing, that."  
  
Aziraphale looked a bit scandalized. "Crowley! Did you Tempt him into doing that?" Plagiarism _was_ a low grade sin, after all.  
  
Crowley's mouth flapped wordlessly for a few seconds while he floundered for an excuse, but nothing came, so he was forced to just admit it. "He was too close to us. Wanted to be alone with you. Well, I mean... alone as possible in that situation. Had to do that to make that little human free bubble around us so we could talk. You were on one of your 'I want them to be able to see me' kicks. Dunno if you remember, but you'd hardly hide from them at all back then."  
  
Aziraphale stared at him, and the exasperation came through before he even said anything. _"Anyway,_ he and I dined together and went to pubs a few times around then. He was a nice man, genuinely. But... after a while it seemed that he'd become quite taken with me, the poor thing. Even if I was interested -- which, for the record, I wasn't -- he was a human, and as I've told you before, _that_ is very, _very_ off limits. I remained amicable with him, of course, but I distanced myself a bit from him when I realized. Kept him at arm's length."  
  
Oddly enough, Crowley found the idea of Shakespeare flirting with Aziraphale pretty funny, rather than being prickled by it at all. "Wasn't he married?"  
  
A tired expression took over Aziraphale's face. "Yes. Yes, he definitely was. I reminded him of that in those times that he had too much to drink and began to make a fool of himself, with me or otherwise. It didn't happen often, but when it did, it was quite spectacular. He once attempted to write a spontaneous poem for a young barmaid. She had to have been half his age."  
  
Crowley let go of his hand and shifted to prop himself up on his elbow, grinning. "Yeah? And how did _that_ go?"  
  
"As well as one might expect. I've sometimes wondered how he explained the bloody nose to Anne when he went home that evening."  
  
Crowley scoffed. "Anne? _Her, too?!"_  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "Humans are quite keen on introducing their friends to their spouses, dear." He explained, moving his own hand to let it slide back and forth over Crowley's thigh and hip. "Arguably, I became better friends with her than I had been with William. It might have helped that her intentions toward our relationship were always platonic. Truly a lovely lady. We exchanged letters quite frequently after William passed. She appreciated my companionship, she always said. Even despite all of that... she wasn't my favorite human of the name, though. _That_ has to be Anne Lister. A real spitfire, that one. I liked her very much. She had... what's that word Americans use? Moxie? I've never seen another human like her, that's for sure. The modern ones aren't anywhere near as fantastical, I find. They've mellowed out a lot over the last two centuries or so."  
  
Crowley just shook his head, snorting at the ridiculous nature of it all. "Remind me to ask who else you knew some other time. Clearly you got into some crazy shit when I wasn't around!"  
  
"Another time?" Crowley looked at him flatly, then pointedly looked down. He didn't have to say anything for Aziraphale to get the message. "Ah... yes, yes. We probably should be getting back to it, shouldn't we. I'm sorry, dear. I got terribly distracted, reminiscing." He laughed, moving his hand to drag the tips of his index and middle finger over Crowley's cheekbone and down his jawline. "Can you think of anything else I need to know?"  
  
"Hm... well, I guess so, yeah. You don't have to ask my permission to do stuff if we've done it before, or if it's something I said you could do just now. It'll make things smoother if you don't this time. 'M not worried about it... but on the off chance I end up not liking something, I'll let you know."  
  
"How?"  
  
The question caught Crowley by surprise. "Uh... I dunno. Shouldn't I just tell you?"  
  
"You could do. That would work well enough, of course, but... I was thinking that perhaps there would be some way to do it with a bit more nuance." He could tell that the suggestion had caught Crowley's interest, based on the way he was looking at him now, so he continued. "How about... we come up with a code? That would help me, as well. I'd like to still be able to check on you, without compromising your vision, if possible."  
  
Crowley's eyebrow raised. "What kinda code are we talking about?"  
  
Aziraphale shrugged. "A non verbal sign we can give each other. Something like... I don't know. I could tap on you. Twice in succession, how about. That way it can't be confused for an accidental touch. That would be me asking if what I'm doing is alright. As for your part of it... you'll tap back twice for yes and thrice for no? Does that work for you?"  
  
Crowley gave him a conspiratorial look. "Oh, _shit._ Yeah, I like that. Won't break the flow."  
  
"You're still to let me know verbally if it's urgent, though."  
  
"'Course." A rare moment of total seriousness settled over Crowley. "You've gotta tell me too, Angel. If I go too far. I care about you being comfortable too, y'know."  
  
"Oh, I will, love. Don't worry. The scales may have tipped to my favor, recently, but I certainly haven't forgotten your penchant for checking up on me." It wasn't something he had _fully_ learned from Crowley... he'd had the vague concept of it before, but it would be a lie to say that being so immersed in that early on hadn't been something that had helped to shape his own identity as a lover.   
  
"Good." There hadn't been much cause for Crowley himself to use the tactic lately, but it didn't mean he cared any less.  
  
Satisfied with the terms they'd come to, Aziraphale nodded. "You know, I did have a hunch it was a seamless scene you were after, more than anything else. Hm. I think, my dear, perhaps you really ought to have tried acting. Seems you've got the mind of an actor. You could still try it. You could do it for a few decades, even. You know how humans have a habit of using methods to try and retain their appearances as they age. I'm sure they'd never even suspect a thing. I'd support you, too. I'd be your biggest fan. Some humans dream of sleeping with their favorite actors. I'd be in the enviable position of living their dreams." The last point was what finally made him crack, and he laughed so hard the corners of his eyes crinkled.  
  
Crowley watched over the endearing display with soft eyes for a few seconds before he remembered he'd wanted to scoff at the idea. "Oh, shut up." He said, playfully swatting at Aziraphale a couple of times before sighing. "Done plenty of acting in the last six thousand years, Angel. That's enough for me. My acting's part of what got us here, really. You don't know how badly I wanted to fucking choke that smug bastard to death. Well, all of them. But especially 'the Archangel fucking Gabriel'."  
  
Aziraphale assessed him, briefly. "Hm. You've mentioned this before. In the same words, no less. Did he actually _say that_ to you?"  
  
They'd traded the major points of their respective stories from that day, when they met up in the park afterwards, but hadn't had a chance to talk about it in depth yet. Crowley's recovery had taken precedence in the time since, and neither of them had raised it as a discussion subject so far.  
  
Part of Crowley wished he hadn't said anything about it here, since this moment felt sort of delicate as it was and he really didn't want to break it again. "Mm... yeah. Yeah, he did. Really thought he was saying it to _you,_ though." He bit his bottom lip decently hard, knowing that he had to change the subject again or he'd actually start to get angry. He couldn't think of Heaven much at all without getting angry, much less think of how the Archangels treated Aziraphale. He knew it was bad, but it especially got to him now that he'd seen it firsthand. "One day I promise I'll tell you all about it. But right now... I think we're busy."  
  
"Ah, yes. So we are." Aziraphale kissed him, just for an instant, but the soft press of his lips melted any irritability that threatened to form. "My dear... if you don't mind, would you get yourself ready for me now? I believe we'll be working up to the point that I'm inside of you fairly soon."  
  
A fresh wave of heat flooded Crowley's face and brought back that rich red color from before. The matter of fact way that he'd delivered the words was very much at odds with their content, and it had served to easily finish reawakening Crowley's dampened arousal. "Uh... er... y-yeah." He stammered, moving to do so just then.  
  
Aziraphale watched him silently until he'd finished his task and looked over again. "Actually, why don't we... just pick up, there? Is a bit of a skip in the storyline alright with you?"  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
"Okay." Aziraphale smiled at him tenderly, hooking an arm under him to effortlessly lift him up and carry him over to the narrow table toward the center of the room. "Is this alright, for our stage? It's at least somewhat nonstandard, isn't it? You did mention a table. It's not a bed, at least."  
  
"Yeah... yeah, Angel. This is perfect."  
  
"Alright." Aziraphale chuckled despite himself and deposited Crowley onto the flat surface of the wood, and he was surprised to find that, miraculously, it wasn't cold against his bare skin. The angel leaned over him, holding his head still with a hand on his chin so he could kiss him once more. He stayed close, hovering just a few inches above Crowley when he pulled away again. "Now... you absolutely _must_ tell me if you want me to drop the act, Crowley. If you find it's not what you need, I want you to end it right away. I'm going to be checking in on you, like we agreed, but... still. Promise me."  
  
Considering what little he'd suggested, it seemed to him that Aziraphale was taking this very seriously. Perhaps a bit more seriously than it called for, but... he couldn't be surprised, really. Aziraphale was _always_ so careful with him, even when it came to things they'd done dozens of times now. Dealing with something new and unknown like this, especially when considering that things had gone a bit wrong already... that was almost definitely poking at that slightly neurotic part of him. "Angel, I swear. I swear with all I have in me. I'm calm. You helped me get through the hard stuff, just like you always do. Don't worry anymore, okay? You don't need to."  
  
"You're so precious. I will always, _always_ take care of you." Aziraphale whispered, accompanying that vow with the glide of one last tender touch of his hand in a line from the top of Crowley's head to his hip, fondly stroking over his jaw, neck, and chest on the way down. "Are you ready to return to 1793, my love? For me to have you, there?"  
  
Crowley sighed appreciatively, the sound pulled from him by what the angel had said to him just as much as the touch he administered. This usage of the word 'have' never hit him quite as hard as he was sure a full blown 'fuck' would, but it was the closest approximation Aziraphale ever managed, and it still left him damn near quaking with anticipation. "More than ready."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on the comments left on the last chapter I am beyond amused to find that the purposely vague wording I used fooled a lot of people into thinking this was going to be something other than what it actually is 😂
> 
> I do have to apologize in case that's disappointing, but I _will_ say that due to some little developments that will occur in the third part there's a chance we may return to this particular point in time again somewhere down the line...
> 
> No way anybody went into this chapter expecting a story about a bi Shakespeare and a reference to Aziraphale having acquaintance with Anne Lister either but here we are (side note I just _have_ to make while we're here: if you're a fan of WLW content please watch Gentleman Jack it's so fucking good)
> 
> I do love when I have an opportunity to make these two have a healthy discussion about things. Bonus points if it happens outside of the sessions, where they're 'supposed to' be talking :P
> 
> His ratio is very respectable, but Aziraphale doesn't _always_ get it right. Sometimes he just fucks up. He isn't infallible, but he is very good at problem solving to mitigate damage!
> 
> With all the important discussion done for the moment, we're finally gonna get to the steamy part of this triple threat in the next chapter 😂


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A hush fell over the room, and an angel and a demon were once again transported from the reality of a flat in London in the present day and into the fiction they'd created, this bubble Aziraphale had crafted, of a fancy French suite that thrived despite being deep in the Reign of Terror. If either of them allowed themselves time to think about it, they might've realized it was a perfect set for them, even if it was borne of fantasy. In this universe, it stood strong in the face of adversity, just as they had in the real world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hello  
It's done and all edited, so I figured why sit on it til Monday morning?  
An early gift from me to you :P

A hush fell over the room, and an angel and a demon were once again transported from the reality of a flat in London in the present day and into the fiction they'd created, this bubble Aziraphale had crafted, of a fancy French suite that thrived despite being deep in the Reign of Terror. If either of them allowed themselves time to think about it, they might've realized it was a perfect set for them, even if it was borne of fantasy. In this universe, it stood strong in the face of adversity, just as they had in the real world.  
  
"I think it's finally come time for me to reward you. You've been so tolerant, my dear boy. So indulgent with me, letting me play with you, despite being so eager for me. How kind." The abruptness with which he'd been able to transition so fully back into character would've probably knocked Crowley flat if he wasn't already in such a position. "I'm going to give it all to you at once. That's what you want, isn't it?" He asked, playfully tapping his cock against the crease of Crowley's thigh and making him shiver once more with anticipation.  
  
He got hold of himself in as quick a fashion as he could manage, in order to respond. _"Yes_. Yes, it damn well is. Fuck me already." The demon gave his best shot at sounding like someone who'd been kept waiting and was finally reaching the end of that lauded tolerance.   
  
"Far be it from me to deny you when you've been so patient." Aziraphale purred, lining himself up with where he needed to be and then moving his hands to hold Crowley's legs apart so he could push into him on the power of his hips alone. He did so steadily, but a bit faster than normal.  
  
Crowley fluttered a bit on the inside as he was penetrated, clenching down on Aziraphale, gripping him as he pressed in. Inviting him, pulling him in, almost. _That_ was new.  
  
It was like even his body was in on the act, taking him like it was the first time it had ever done so.  
  
It also made the demon hiss. "Jesus bloody _Chrisssst_." Admittedly, he'd been a bit daring here, to begin with. He hadn't opened himself up even as much as he usually did, and even _that_ was pushing it sometimes. Aziraphale's girth itself was doing the remainder of the work to stretch him. It didn't _hurt_, and it wasn't even unpleasant, due to the miracle, but the feel of it had definitely surprised him.  
  
Aziraphale used all the willpower he had in him to stop moving, and he watched Crowley like a hawk, having obviously caught onto that rare slip of his tongue. After taking a moment to center himself, Crowley reached up to use the new signal, tapping him twice, then reached over to take hold of one of Aziraphale's hands to put it around his wrist. It was only then that he'd noticed the light purple rings pressed into the angel's skin at the wrist, bruises from the manacles that had been keeping him trapped that day... he'd even gone _that far_ with the detail.  
  
To his credit, Aziraphale cottoned on to what he was being asked for rather quickly, putting just a little pressure into his grip to give the suggestion of pinning Crowley's arm to the table, without actually doing it. "Oh, don't you go and bring that poor young man into it." He said, mouthing over the center of Crowley's throat and giving him a sharp nip right over his adam's apple, drawing the flat of his tongue over the spot afterwards, as he finally finished his initial push in. "I might get jealous."  
  
Crowley's breath caught at the sudden feeling of teeth on him, but he got himself back together in a relatively quick manner. "Envy's a sin, Aziraphale. One of the Bad ones." He responded. No drawn out sibilants this time. He was back in control of his tongue.  
  
Aziraphale scoffed at him. "'Envy is a sin', he says, to an angel. As is Lust. As is Gluttony. As is Pride. I can't say I'm too afraid of those, so why would I be afraid of Envy? I might as well just go right down the list and tick every box, for all that it matters. I'm already halfway there as it is."   
  
"Oh, but he's not the one that's balls deep in me, is he? You haven't got to be envious of him. And fuck... if you haven't already got the Greed, _I_ damn well do. You're so goddamn _thick_. Feels so fucking _good_. Knew it was gonna."  
  
Aziraphale gave him his best scandalized look. "It strikes me that I'd no idea you had such an absolutely _filthy_ mouth."   
  
Crowley made a low, wanton little sound, just for the sake of agitating him further. "You mean you _don't_ wanna hear every tiny detail about how I want you to spread me open and fuck me so hard I can't think?"  
  
"For God's sake, _language_, you wicked creature." Aziraphale's lines of scolding rang particularly hollow now. It was totally unconvincing when his physiological response was telling a different story entirely.  
  
"You didn't seem to mind it before." The demon said, with a knowing grin.  
  
For lack of a better response, unable to formulate one at the moment, Aziraphale simply yanked Crowley over to kiss him and shut him up. Realistically, he couldn't kiss him as much as normal, either, during this scene they were playing out, so he had to take them where he could. The demon held back the impulse to laugh and gave a low whine of want instead.  
  
Crowley hadn't spoken to Aziraphale like this before today, and he didn't know if he could muster it up outside of this context of acting, but clearly it was having an effect. Had been since the moment he started.  
  
What he didn't expect was for Aziraphale to turn it on him. "Perhaps you, with this positively _sinful_ cock of yours, ought to have been the one that they chained up, for _my_ rescue. I do suppose they aren't looking for degenerates at this point in time, though. They've _become_ degenerates. Likely, that's what spared you."  
  
That word, 'cock', given from Aziraphale's lips... it positively torched him. Crowley tried his best to keep the shudder out of his voice, and mostly managed. "No chance. It's definitely 'cause I'm too slick to get caught. 'Sides, there's only one person I'd let shackle me, and I can tell you it's for damn sure not some French revolutionary."  
  
Aziraphale started, suddenly pulled out of the scene despite himself, and his eyebrows raised the same way they had when Crowley was making his suggestions, before. The demon didn't give him any type of response, leaving the whole thing rather ambiguous.  
  
In either case, it planted a seed. Aziraphale wasn't quite sure what to make of that revelation, or even the validity of it, but ultimately he shook it off, leaving it for later and reclaiming his place again. "You feel very tight around me. Is that something that you've done on purpose, you foul fiend? Is this your way of snaring me?" He asked lowly, breath ghosting over Crowley's lips in the close proximity they remained at.  
  
_Tap, tap._  
  
"Might be." _Tap, tap._ "Finally caught an angel I've been tracking for thousands of years. The way I see it, I've gotta make him feel good, so he'll wanna come back on his own later."  
  
Said angel leaned in, and a kiss and a nibble graced Crowley's ear, just before his voice did. "Oh, I don't know. I think he might be inclined to come back around, regardless. He likes you a fair bit more than he lets on. If I were to say, at least."  
  
"Y'think so, huh?"  
  
"Oh, yes. I'm sure there are days when he simply can't stop thinking about you." With that, he _finally_ started to move.  
  
Crowley's eyes clouded over, and a heavy exhale fell from him. "Really wouldn't do for him to tell me that, though. Might get a big head."  
  
"And the knowledge of that would be likely to give _him_ a big head, so you'd just be a pair."  
  
Crowley's hand made its way to grip the angel's shoulder, and he found himself appreciating the feel of his muscles flexing underneath all that softness as he moved. "Think we're a pair already."  
  
"It's quite possible that's true."  
  
At that point, Crowley kept his silence and let the thread slip away for a while.  
  
He was already drunk on the feeling of Aziraphale, strong and rock hard inside of him. Lost in the slow, heavy drag of him, that push-pull rhythm of him, held lovingly within Crowley's inner walls. He had the thought quite often, but it never meant any less; he was 100% certain he would never have enough.  
  
His attention was pulled back when he felt the hand abandon its post at his thigh, followed by fingers running across the top of his head. He could feel the slight hesitance in the movement, too, but they curled, experimentally, then pulled tight once they'd reached the center of his scalp. Aziraphale's hand was fisted in his hair.  
  
He gave a surprised moan, purposely pressing his head up toward that hand when he felt Aziraphale stiffen. _"Fuck_... didn't think you'd be such a good listener." He got the vague sense that maybe he should've explained the ideal circumstances better, but that was a tip he could share later, probably.  
  
"Don't lie to yourself, now. You knew." At the very least, he was learning that Aziraphale was good at projecting confidence with his acting. If Crowley didn't otherwise know how to read him, he wouldn't have known he'd been nervous, at all. "But my, if you're this easy to please, this will be a walk in the park for me."  
  
He used his grip on the hair to gently move Crowley's head to the side, exposing his neck, and leaned down to kiss it, then drew another mark out on a stretch of previously unblemished skin, pressing his full weight onto the demon as he fucked him. His hips weren't quite pistoning, but they were getting there.  
  
But, just as suddenly as he'd done that, he slowed back down again. He repeated that cycle a second time, surging forward, and then pulling it back to something milder. The back to back pace changes made Crowley dizzy. Aziraphale was keeping him on his toes, that was for sure.  
  
"Crowley?" Aziraphale's voice was low and husky in his ear. "Turn over for me." He said, then released his hold and leaned back properly so Crowley could do so.  
  
The fact that he'd been asked that surprised Crowley, since Aziraphale had made his preference on this clear. Willingly going against his normal path showed his understanding of the difference in this act they were putting on, plus his commitment to preserving Crowley's idea of the scene flow, and he didn't even consider disobeying. It put an excited little flutter in his stomach, actually. He flopped quickly and rather ungracefully over onto his front, adjusting his position with a wiggle backwards so he could put his feet on the floor.  
  
They shared a deep gasp as Aziraphale sunk into him again, rapidly working back up to his previous pace, then surpassing it. Crowley felt warm and inviting, almost impossibly so, and the vice that he was on the inside easily took the angel's breath.  
  
Crowley rested his cheek against the wooden surface, looking at the other over his shoulder. "Y'like it? How I feel? All tight and hot 'round you? I'll tell you a secret, 'n this one's free; it's _just_ for you, y'know? Don't want anybody else. Never have."  
  
Rather than answer him with words, the response came in the form of a sudden and sharp increase in the pressure against his hip as Aziraphale tightened his grip in order to put more weight into his movements and fuck him harder. The other hand, which had been unaccounted for up until then, found its way into his hair again, running up from the base of his skull to tangle in the strands at the back of his head.  
  
All of that combined made Crowley choke, and his hands scrabbled for grip at the edge of the table. While he was pinned, his cock was tightly sandwiched between his torso and the furniture, and the friction of it being dragged against the generous smear of precome he'd leaked onto the surface felt nothing short of glorious as he was quite thoroughly rocked with each of those powerful thrusts. "Ah, _fuck_, Aziraphale... A-Aziraphale!"  
  
Two taps were sent, against his hip, and _somehow_ Crowley still had the wits about him to send two back. Barely. He clung to Aziraphale's arm after responding, unable to bear breaking contact with him.  
  
Aziraphale leaned in, pulling Crowley's head to the side, tilting his ear up as close as it would get to his mouth without touching. "Mm... Crowley, _dear_." He purred into Crowley's ear, and the words poured over him, sending another shot of molten heat toward his groin and making him drip more of a mess onto the table. "Call me 'Angel', won't you? You called me that earlier. I liked it." He breathed, dipping his head to mouth over the ridge of his demon's shoulder.  
  
"Fuck... I'll do anything you want." He whined, letting his hand slip free of his lover's arm in favor of moving it up into his fluffy hair instead, pressing to keep him close.  
  
"Ah... you're just so _good_, aren't you. So good, and all _mine_." Just as those familiar chills rose in Crowley's spine, Aziraphale bore down on him again with his full weight and marked him in the curve joining his shoulder and neck, and suddenly he was obeying with a seemingly unending repetition of 'Angel, Angel, Angel', punctuating each thrust with a call of the word.  
  
Somewhere deep in the haze he knew he never would've let Aziraphale call him good back then and he should be fighting it, at least a little bit. He couldn't bring himself to, though. It felt too nice. This was a detail he could let slip.  
  
What _also_ felt nice was the played up act of possessiveness that Aziraphale was putting on. Nicer than Crowley would've ever expected that to feel. He supposed it was because it was just _so_ different from normal.  
  
Once he thought he'd gorged himself enough on Crowley's cries for now, Aziraphale purposely slowed down again, leaning over Crowley to slide his hands against him, drumming his fingertips on him, tilting the pads of his fingers to grace him with an occasional, light scrape of nails and spread a flood of warmth over his back, making him shudder. "Hm... and what kind of ending did you dream up for this little encounter? _Surely_ you didn't want me to--"  
  
Crowley didn't even let him finish, picking up the baton he'd dropped there by clenching purposely around him. "Aziraphale, I swear to _God_. If you don't come inside me... 'm gonna be _extremely_ fucking cross." He hissed.  
  
_"Well!_ We can't have that, now, can we." He laughed, stopping his movements completely and resting his chin at the base of Crowley's neck. "So... you want me to make a mess out of you, my blasphemous, positively foul-mouthed demon? _In_ you?"  
  
Crowley would've complained about him stopping, _should've_, even, but the vibration of Aziraphale's voice sliding down his spine as he let slip those perfectly given lines felt too good to let even his character be too upset. "Mm... yeah. _Fuck yeah_, I do. Want you to fill me up, _Angel_. Nice 'n deep. Gonna feel so fucking sexy."  
  
"Filthy thing." Again, it sounded way more like a positive than it was supposed to. "You're so excited, though. How can I possibly deny you, when you're like this?"  
  
"Y'can't. Deep down you wanna do it too, you bastard. Don't try to say you don't." Crowley laughed breathlessly. "Think you wanna leave me a mess, just as much as I want you to."  
  
Aziraphale grinned behind him. "Mm. Maybe I do." He said, taking a pause to mark the back of Crowley's neck and soaking in his little catch of breath at the unexpected pinch of teeth against his skin. He laughed against Crowley and was gifted with another catch in return for the vibrations he sent down his back again. "Goodness, you really _do_ want that, don't you. I can hear it in your voice. I can _feel_ it, even. You squeezed me when you said it, did you know? Absolutely wretched. So _wanton_. Are you ready for it, then?"  
  
Crowley didn't have much room to thrash, but gave it an earnest attempt anyway. "Fuck, please. Please, please, please. Give it."  
  
There was a hand on the sensitive flesh of Crowley's bottom, squeezing. Testing. Two taps. "Now?"  
  
The response was immediate, both verbally and physically._"Now_. I want it."  
  
Aziraphale laughed lowly, and it made the hairs on Crowley's arms raise. "You are _unbelievably_ demanding, do you know that? I think I've no choice but to indulge you, though. This was your favor to start out with, wasn't it. You've even said please and everything! A rarity I should reward. But I _do_ wonder, my dear boy... whose Greed is stronger; yours, or mine?"  
  
Crowley didn't have time to form a response, let alone _give_ one, before the other hand had joined its twin and they were drawing him back, steady and firm, bringing him in closer and pulling his cheeks apart, spreading him open so Aziraphale could fuck him deep, as deep as he could.   
  
"Agh, _shit!_" Being fully impaled on Aziraphale's cock so suddenly had knocked the breath right out of him, and the angel had been in the process of putting a damper on his movements to check on him again when he started rambling. _"Yes_. You feel so _fucking good_, Angel. _Just like this_. There. God, fuck, _please_ don't fucking move. And don't even _think_ about stopping."  
  
Aziraphale couldn't _begin_ to tell if any of that was the real Crowley peeking through, or if it was all his character, but that didn't matter. Crowley was fine, so it didn't matter _at all_, in the face of that liquid fire shooting through his veins. "I'm not sure I would have guessed you had it in you, but what a _good boy_ you've turned into, Crowley. You sound absolutely delightful."  
  
Crowley gasped. His whole body briefly seized up at being called 'good boy', and it felt like it lit up all of his nerve endings at once, like a lightning strike of pleasure. Aziraphale had known _precisely_ what he was doing when he said that. He'd known it would melt Crowley down to his core, and the demon loved that he was so eager to use his knowledge to his advantage in this circumstance. He was clearly trying to wring every last drop of ecstasy out of Crowley. When he regained full control of his pleasure paralyzed limbs, he shifted his weight slightly so he could angle his hips and push his body up higher, offer more of himself up to Aziraphale. "Wanna be good for you..."  
  
"The best, is what you are. _Always_ the best." These words were whispered into Crowley's back and sealed into his skin with a kiss, signifying in no uncertain terms that this was a message straight from Aziraphale's heart, something he meant with all that he had in him. That was him, not something put on. He then centered himself and cleared his throat, raising his voice back up to normal level to transition back into his act. "You are. And I know you'll keep being good for me and keep asking for what you want, won't you? It's music to my ears, your begging." He purred, widening his stance to push Crowley's legs further apart, returning his hands to his lover's hips.  
  
The demon inhaled sharply, shifting his weight again, supporting himself on his palms and his clenched fingers so he had some leverage to actually push back against Aziraphale, meeting his thrusts. "F-Fuck..."  
  
"Oh, what's this? Close to the edge, are you? I think that perhaps you'll meet me there."  
  
Crowley managed to pull himself together just enough to turn his head and look at Aziraphale over his shoulder again. _"In me_. Want it in me. Don't you _dare_ forget."  
  
"Mm... aren't _you_ precious. And they say _I'm_ the greedy one." Crowley was almost amazed how calm the other could sound, even right up until the very end. The signs were clear, physically, that he was hustling toward the point of no return, but nothing but a very slight strain in his voice gave him away in that direction. If Crowley didn't know exactly where to look for it, he wouldn't find it. "It seems I've gotten an answer to my question. I think you could give me a run for my money any day, my dear."  
  
"I-I'll give you whatever you want, 's long as you give me what I want. I _need_ it. I need _you_." He delivered the lines perfectly, summoning up every bit of his flair for dramatics to use it as fuel, as the catalyst to push both of them over that edge they were rushing to. "Keep filling this empty space in me, Angel. Let me keep feeling you, even after you've gone again. _Please_."  
  
And then, like those words had pulled a loose thread dangling from him, Aziraphale came apart. "Oh, _Crowley._" The hot fluid rushed, reached the precipice, and started to spill over, all in that one instant. It had him giving a reedy cry and snapping his hips forward, pressing completely into Crowley and holding his demon tight against him as he finally met that very insistent demand that he be filled.  
  
The sound of him, the feel of him losing it like that... it could do nothing less than be Crowley's total undoing. The lightning came back for a second go at him, right then, and this time it took him over completely. Charging up on the feeling of Aziraphale spilling inside him, it arced through the whole of him, crackling over his bones, shooting through his veins, and lighting him up once more. It shocked his tongue, and it burnt his voice hoarse, but that still didn't stop him from giving all he had, in the way of vocally letting Aziraphale know how good he felt. His body was shaking and his nails were pressed white as he held onto the edge of the table for dear life, pleasured tears pricking his eyes while he rolled through what he would easily call the most intense climax he'd ever had in his long life. That hunger he'd alluded to at the beginning of all of this had at last been fed. _More_ than fed.  
  
When he had nothing left to give, he collapsed back onto the surface and right into the mess he'd made of it, but he couldn't have cared any less.  
  
Aziraphale let go of him, once he could tell they'd both finished, but otherwise stayed where he was, for a time... he let his hands wander over Crowley's heaving back, his fingers mapping out the dips and the peaks of him like they'd done so many times before. Once they were both calm, having regained even breath and no longer trembling, he finally went to move off him.  
  
But Crowley had other plans. He sprang into action and forced himself to move, on sheer willpower alone, chasing Aziraphale to keep him fully seated as he tried to pull away. "Uh-uh, don't think so. We're not done here. Don't go soft on me."

Aziraphale drew in a surprised breath, then laughed in the same tone. "Oh, you really are _something else_." He leaned over Crowley, and his breath tickled his ear as he spoke. "So, I haven't satisfied you?"  
  
Crowley wiggled in his spot from the pleasant feeling that crawled over his back. "Mm... it's not that. Not gonna have you doubting you're a good lay. I just shot harder than I prob'ly have in my whole goddamn life." He gave a responding laughter that was completely real, if a bit exaggerated. "You called me at the beginning, 'n at the end. 'M satisfied... just greedy. Not ready to let you go just yet. You blame me? Who knows when we'll get to do this again. Gotta make it last. Don't want you to forget how good it feels, between now and then. I... want you to want me, every second."  
  
There was a hitch in his voice as he spoke the last sentence, one of those ones you'd miss if you weren't totally listening, but it was still there right enough, and Aziraphale found it. He caught Crowley, the real one, peering through the cracks there. It succeeded in immediately breaking the thread hanging onto what was left of his character.   
  
His hands turned soft right away, and then one arm pushed its way under Crowley's body to use it as leverage to pull himself closer and press his chest flush to the demon's back, leaving him lying on top of Crowley and holding him tight from behind. _"I do_, Crowley. There's absolutely nothing I want more than you. In _every single way_ I can have you, and every way _you'll_ have _me_. I told you earlier, and I meant it from the bottom of my heart: I want _everything_ with you. I want _all_ of you. _Always_." He told him, unable and unwilling to stop from doing so. He needed Crowley to hear it again, and it had been made clear to him that the demon needed to hear it of his own accord too.   
  
"Angel..." He briefly sounded like he might start to actually cry, but then he laughed some more instead. "Christ. You can't just _say_ stuff like that. Gonna make me get all weepy."  
  
"Oh." Aziraphale cleared his throat, burying his flushed face against the side of Crowley's neck, not embarrassed of _what he'd said_, but a bit embarrassed of just how passionate he'd gotten so quickly. "Ah... I got a little worked up, didn't I." A side effect of his recent orgasm, maybe. But nothing he'd said was untrue, either way.   
  
"Just a bit. But... maybe that's a good thing, sometimes."  
  
Aziraphale smiled sheepishly, bringing Crowley's hand up and turning his head just enough to press a few kisses to it. "It probably goes without saying, but it seems that I can't keep up the pretense any longer, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, dear."   
  
"Mm-mm. Don't apologize." Crowley shook his head, and his gaze was soft as he moved, leaning over to expose the rest of the angel's face so he could look at him. "You really can _always_ figure out what I need, can't you. It's kinda crazy how good you are at doing that."  
  
The skin around Crowley's eyes was red and wet, and Aziraphale could see tears still brimming on the surface. So, he _wasn't_ hearing things. He really had been crying, if only just a little.  
  
Aziraphale's heart throbbed at the sight, at the idea that his affectionate declarations could provoke such a response in Crowley, but he could tell the tears were a good thing this time, so he gave him mercy and didn't draw attention to it. If he did, he knew Crowley would probably get embarrassed, and as cute as that could be at times, he thought he'd prefer to keep the moment as it was, so he could enjoy it and leave Crowley his peace, as well. "It's an ability that I take no small amount of pride in cultivating, honestly. Sometimes it takes more effort than others, and I may not always get it right the first time, but I do quite freely pledge that I'll always do my best for you. I want you to always feel as good as you deserve to." He kissed Crowley's cheek, offering him a soft smile. "Telling you how I feel was completely intentional, by the way. I meant what I said. I just feel a bit silly that I was the one that asked for all of that and I broke it first."  
  
"Well, don't. Wouldn't have expected to keep it up forever anyway, y'know? We got through the main event. We were going into bonus territory." Crowley used his serpent's flexibility to twist his way into laying on his back again. "'Sides, you're always telling me not to apologize for stuff like that. You can't do it either. Not gonna sit here and let you make a hypocrite out of yourself, so quit it."  
  
Aziraphale smiled a little at that. It was a point that was more than fair. "Mm. You're right." He looked into Crowley's eyes, which the demon seemed to have willed back to normal before he turned over. Finally able to focus on the detail, he noted that the pupils were still quite rounded off. They hadn't returned to their normal slitted form. "But, you know, if you really _did_ still want to continue... if your saying that wasn't just part of the theater, I'd like to make love to you now. Would you like that?"  
  
Crowley's heart and his groin both pulsed at that question. Now that things had settled, he knew for sure. If pressed, he would have to admit he was still terribly horny, still charged off of all of the Lust that had permeated the room, and he also wanted more of this re-emerging tenderness, too. It was a combination Aziraphale was impossibly good at providing, relief for his physical needs as well as his emotional ones, all at the same time. "Oh, fuck. _Please_. Yes. I want that." He knew Aziraphale could tell, which was why he'd asked. He wanted to hear it from Crowley's lips. Even when the angel _knew_, he still asked. The care he exhibited in everything he did made Crowley fall in love all over again every single time.   
  
"I'm glad to hear it. I do find that I'm quite eager to provide, as well."  
  
There was a snap, and Crowley found himself with his back hitting the soft surface of their bed, Aziraphale landing on top of him. "Was a bed in there, y'know. You put it there."  
  
He briefly took hold of Crowley's arm, pulling it up so that he could press kisses to the inside of his wrist and the center of his palm. "I have a bit of a sentimental attachment to this one."  
  
It made Crowley's heart speed. "Well, now that you mention it..." He gently took his hand away and looped his arms around the back of his Principality's neck, dragging him in for a proper kiss.  
  
It only took a moment like that for the heat between them to start to build again. One lucky thing about being a non-human creature, whether occult or ethereal, was that trivial limitations like a refractory period didn't have to exist if you didn't want them to. And, as it happened, neither of them could say it was on the wish list. After all, why would you willingly put in a road block if you could skip it altogether? But before they could _truly_ get back to business, Crowley was leaning back. He'd had an idea. "Mm... hey, Angel, y'mind laying down beside me? On your back? Wanna try something, if that's okay."  
  
"Of course, dear." Aziraphale hummed, backing off to do as he was asked. He settled himself into the pile of their pillows primly, then took to watching Crowley with no shortage of curiosity swimming in his eyes.  
  
Crowley waited until he was fully settled, then climbed on top of him, draping his lanky body over him, facing away from him, with his legs tucked outside of Aziraphale's. "See what you think of... having me like this." He said, lowering himself down and turning his warmed face in so that he could nuzzle into the side of Aziraphale's neck. "Y'like being able to kiss me, right? 'S what you told me before. Might be a bit weird, 'cause of the angle, but you still can, like this."  
  
"Oh? I think I'd better try it, just to be sure."   
  
That had Crowley picking up his head again, unburying his face so he could press his lips to Aziraphale's. This kiss was fairly chaste, and over quickly, fulfilling its function as a demonstration, but it still managed to stir up a little bit of that fluttery feeling in his stomach again. "W-Well?"  
  
"It's acceptable, I think." Aziraphale teased, brushing his hand reverently over Crowley's ribs.   
  
The way his touch got even lighter as his fingers prepared to brush over that scar, despite not being able to see it, made Crowley flare up with love, and he offered a whimper. "Will you...?" _Get back in me. Fill this space, the space that's only yours, carved out just for you. Complete the circuit of us._  
  
"Yes." He didn't need to ask for clarification. He knew. "You're ready?"  
  
"Uh-huh." Crowley breathed, reaching down behind him to hold Aziraphale steady at the base.  
  
There was some shifting, some lining up, and then Aziraphale slid home again, and by the time he'd let go and Aziraphale had bottomed out, Crowley knew he'd done right by choosing to try this right now. He missed having Aziraphale's weight on top of him, for sure, but... the trade off was almost worth the loss. He could feel _everything_. Very acutely, in fact. He felt every inch of Aziraphale, buried deep... and those hands, impossibly soft and perfectly manicured, holding onto his waist.  
  
They were supporting him, silently declaring _I've got you_. A brilliant distilling down of their relationship, right there in that fond embrace.  
  
And then he was gifted with that voice, brighter than gold and twice as precious. "What do you think, love? Do you like it?"  
  
Crowley sighed, letting his head fall back to rest on Aziraphale's shoulder. "Yeah... feels so good." The angel had him pretty well figured out by now. He loved everything about this pause, before the action began, and Aziraphale always drew it out for him on purpose. He never _needed_ the time to adjust to him, the miracle did that work for him. He just enjoyed the feeling of being connected with him, in this calm bubble of before. He was pleased to find that his feelings on the matter were still the same this time despite the fact they'd already gone a round.  
  
"Does it, now?" Without even looking at him, Crowley could see that cheeky grin.  
  
One of Crowley's hands found its way down to cover Aziraphale's at his waist, slipping his fingers between the angel's when the gaps opened up for him. "Mm-hmm. _Fuck_, it does. You _know_ it does, you've gotta know... 'cause it's the same for you, right? You just wanna hear it."  
  
"Maybe I do. Is that wrong?"  
  
"Nah. And if it was, I wouldn't wanna be right. I wanna tell you. Want you to know how good you make me feel." He rumbled out, giving Aziraphale a couple of feather light kisses to the corner of his mouth. "I love you." That was something else he always wanted to tell him, too. It would never cease to amaze him how it felt to do so... how _stunning _it was for them to have finally reached the point where something that had been vigilantly held back for so long could be freely given.  
  
"Oh, you sweet thing. I love you, too. With everything I have, and then some. You are my entire heart. You know that, don't you? You must, by now." It was the first time he'd said it in these words while Crowley was awake, but he'd said it many times over, in other ways.  
  
"Angel..."  
  
Aziraphale turned his head to take Crowley's lips properly. In that same moment he started to slowly roll his hips, in that familiar, characteristic way, to press up into him, and it lit him up from the jump. The punched out breath that it pulled from him was like a song to Aziraphale's ears, and he took it from Crowley to swallow it down as his tongue breached his demon's mouth.  
  
It was soft, and wet, and warm, and it had Crowley awash in a sea of tingles in no time flat. This precise sensation was the obvious, red-handed culprit behind the fact that he'd come to enjoy all of this so much, and why he was seeking it out when he never would've been able to do so before. It wasn't just about mere satiation, for him, _or_ for Aziraphale. Lust, and the physiological response to that Lust... certainly factors at play, but not the bottom line. For them, it was unquestionably tipped more toward the emotional than it was the physical. It was about affection, about a soul deep bond, and the expression of those things, at the core.  
  
Above anything else, Crowley just felt... loved. Now, and always. He did his best to make sure that Aziraphale felt the same.  
  
When Aziraphale finally managed to successfully break apart from him again; when Crowley stopped chasing after his retreating mouth to pull him back in, stopped drawing out those little smiles every time he did it... the demon _also_ suddenly felt very much like he was on display, but that likely had to do with the fact that he kind of _was_.  
  
This position left him spread open and quite vulnerable in Aziraphale's lap, but at the same time, he knew there was no safer place for him to be. Should he go to forget, those arms wrapped tight around his waist and broad hands laid fondly across his lower stomach would serve to remind him that Aziraphale's embrace was his safe place, his soft place to land. This was his safe harbor, where he could run and know that he would always be protected.  
  
"Can I touch you, darling?"  
  
"Mm-hmm..."  
  
The slow, careful curl of Aziraphale's fingers around him felt so good it momentarily made him think he might cry again. He shivered, not knowing whether he wanted to push forward to that loving hand, or down, to take him deeper.  
  
He was in limbo like that for a while, letting Aziraphale provide all of the friction for the two of them, but eventually he settled on moving down.  
  
Crowley sat up a bit, moving his hands to press them flat to the mattress and give himself better leverage. Eventually he found the _perfect_ rhythm, pushing down as Aziraphale pushed up, taking every bit of him that would fit. Just a few repetitions of that was enough to start to crack him. "Ahh, god... oh, _fuck_... I can't. Angel, I'm gonna _come_." He wasn't quite there _yet_, but he'd be there before he knew what hit him. The cracks would spread fast, and he'd shatter completely. He'd already figured on not lasting very long this time, after the intensity of the previous round, and the sensitivity it had left him with. This was probably his last chance to warn before it just went ahead and happened, if the way his body was tensing had anything to say about it, at least.  
  
"Oh, please do." There was a short pause, filled only with a string of open mouthed kisses over the back of Crowley's neck. "Do you mind if I watch you unravel, this time?"  
  
Crowley groaned, giving in to that warm and slightly prickly sensation that he'd previously only felt on the occasions that Aziraphale had watched him get himself off. Just the thought of having those attentive eyes watching over him, taking in every detail while he was speared on him like this was enough to evoke it, and elicit a weighty twitch from his own full to bursting cock.   
  
_"Holy shit_, please. _Please_ watch. And keep touching me." Currently it was only in this kind of moment, deep in the heat of pairing with Aziraphale, that he could manage to lose the rest of his inhibitions, find the courage to knock away his embarrassment, and ask for _exactly_ what he wanted. "Please, don't let go. Wanna keep feeling your hand. Want _you_ to feel what you do to me." He breathed, angling his body so that Aziraphale could look his fill from over his shoulder.  
  
"You can be sure that I will, my darling. You have _every bit_ of my attention." Crowley couldn't see Aziraphale's smile, of course, but he could feel it, and he could just about hear it when he spoke, that smooth voice suddenly having moved next to his ear along with the granted approval. "I'm so grateful. I'm beyond pleased that you feel comfortable enough to give me permission to touch you now. Of course, I love that I can give this to you _at all_. Anything you allow me is a gift. And you're always so much more than deserving, my _beautiful_ boy. You're such a wonder, do you know that? I could watch you like this forever and I know I would never tire of it. Simply _gorgeous_." The sweet words were breathed directly into his ear, and accompanied by a purposeful squeeze of Aziraphale's hand.  
  
Again, he demonstrated that he knew _exactly_ what he was doing here, as his demon's weakness for praise was a tool he'd had plenty of time to get well acquainted with. With that impeccable execution, it didn't take anything more to unhinge Crowley. That perfectly delivered volley was the last straw. He'd been drawn tight, like a bow string, and it snapped him. "A-Ack...!" He choked out, teeth clenching and hands fisting the bed sheets as his cock started to twitch and shoot ribbons of come over his stomach and Aziraphale's hand. "Fuck..." He whined, barely coherent enough to keep himself upright.  
  
It didn't help at all when Aziraphale started to coo _more_ sweet words in his ear and melted him further. _"Oh_, there you go... that's it, Crowley. Take what you deserve. You're so good for me. _So good_."  
  
Crowley was in awe of just how incredible it felt to come like this; with the combination of Aziraphale's voice in his ear, the feeling of that sweet gaze on him, and his hand wrapped around him. He wasn't quite sure that anything should be able to feel _this_ good, in a world and a life that had always been so fucked up, but still, it did. Aziraphale's love did.  
  
The sensation was truly a marvel to him, and he quickly decided it had been well worth the wait. After all, each time Aziraphale had been inside him before, he'd come completely untouched. He hadn't _allowed_ Aziraphale to touch him, but he had also refrained from touching himself up until this point as well. Mostly from sheer stubbornness, but still.   
  
But now... if _this_ was how it was going to feel, he'd probably never forbid him again. The extra stimulation was dizzying, and it hit him so hard he had little choice but to close his eyes and ride it out until the last pulse had gone through him.  
  
Aziraphale's voice came from behind him again. "Would you mind terribly if I had a taste, love?" He sounded a bit distant. Crowley's head was foggy and it would take a moment for him to come back down out of the clouds.  
  
Out of it as he was, Crowley didn't immediately realize _exactly_ what he was signing off on, but he shook his head anyway. "Mm-mm. I don't." He thought there was no need to wait or to try to force his focus. Based on his pattern of behavior, he knew Aziraphale wouldn't do anything _crazy_ with that little of a discussion. No matter what it meant, he was sure he'd be okay with it.  
  
And then he opened his eyes just in time to watch Aziraphale lift his soiled hand to his mouth to scoop some of his spend off of it with his tongue, and it yanked him back to the ground immediately, the impact knocking his brain completely offline.  
  
"Oh my god... oh... my... _fuck_. **_Aziraphale_**_!_" For a moment Crowley forgot how to breathe, and the wheeze was evident at the end of his shout. By the time the angel's name came from his mouth, neither of them were totally sure if he was still expressing shock, if it was meant to be a scolding, or if he was trying to encourage him.  
  
"Call it a compromise, darling. I avoided doing that work, but still got the reward." Aziraphale purred, flashing his teeth in a grin before moving to clean each of his fingers in turn, all the while never quite stopping the movement of his hips. Their roll had slowed to an almost torturous pace now, while he was occupied with other things. "I really wasn't sure what to expect with this, but you're scrumptious, my love. If my taste is even half as good, I can see why you like doing that so much."  
  
"Ngk." The verbal tic practically fell out of him. He was amazed at what he was seeing and hearing. "I can't with you..."  
  
"Oh, but you can. Can't you?" The question was playful, but the pause that accompanied it betrayed the fact that he still wanted an answer to it.  
  
Crowley didn't respond in words, but nodded. It was true. He could, and he would. He _always_ would.  
  
Aziraphale sighed appreciatively. "You really are so beautiful like this. You've given me such a blessing, dearheart, inviting me in and allowing me to know you." His freshly cleaned hand returned, and both of them began to wander; stroking his flank, his chest, his trembling thighs... but eventually finding a place back on Crowley's hips to hold him steady through each deep press of that thick cock inside him. They were progressively becoming more insistent, building toward the upper limit of his normal pace and cluing him in on the fact that Aziraphale was reaching his limit again, finally. "Crowley, do you want--"  
  
"Yeah." He didn't have to wait for Aziraphale to finish. He already knew what he was being asked. "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I want." He rambled, still feeling fuzzy in the wake of his orgasm despite the shock he'd had to his system. Of course he wanted that. There was never anything he wanted more at the crest of their coupling than to feel the undeniable proof that he'd given Aziraphale just what he needed.  
  
That was especially true today. Even in those times when he messed up, he just wanted so badly to be what Aziraphale needed, and to _know_ that he was. Of course, he knew Aziraphale wasn't lying when he _said_ so... but somehow it felt even more real when displayed this way.  
  
_And_ he just found that he liked the feeling of it, in general, so every cell of him was in total support. He was almost certain Aziraphale had to have figured that out by now. Just another thing he _knew_, but wanted to hear Crowley tell him.  
  
So he did. "Please. Do it again for me, _please_." The request came out in the form of a low whine as he arched his back, pushing fully onto Aziraphale again, to stay there this time. He was raw in both voice and body, but not for a second did he consider stopping, nor did he consider any other course of action than _precisely_ this one.  
  
Aziraphale didn't hold out much longer, and soon he gave out and stilled once more, but only after those twitches and pulses his body gave had acted to fulfill his demon's desires. It was a particularly messy affair, this time. His spilled over spend and their mingling sweat stuck them together, but it was something that neither of them could find a complaint about.  
  
Crowley felt Aziraphale's cheek against the back of his shoulder, a smile pressed into his skin. For some reason the intimacy of that contact in this moment made him flush all over. Although he was just a bit too spent right now to go for a third round, he still took the time to fully appreciate how good all of this was. He was tired, he was sweaty, and he was sticky... so, objectively, he was in a poor state at this particular second, but at the same time, he wasn't sure if he'd ever felt better than this. For some reason, he wasn't quite sure why... it felt like they had broken some kind of wall down, here. Or, at the very least, they'd helped to lower one that had already been coming down.  
  
He closed his eyes then, lost in the aftermath. Lost in the feeling of Aziraphale's steel hard grip softening into a fond caress once more, of those hot pants of breath against his neck slowly backing down from their frantic pace, of kisses on his flushed skin, of both of their heartbeats stepping back from that thunderous rhythm and heading back toward normal.  
  
Time blurred a bit after that. Crowley wasn't quite sure whose miracle had cleaned up and whose had fetched the wine from the other room, nor did he know when or how they had swapped positions, but the particulars didn't really matter in this case. He felt far too comfortable to worry about it, blissed out and sprawled lazily across the bed, with Aziraphale's top half laid over his chest, alternating taking his own drinks and drip feeding the angel small sips of the burgundy liquid until it was all gone.  
  
"So, uh... did you like it?" He asked, once the bottle was empty, reaching over to set it aside. It had been... well, a lot, and he couldn't help but be curious about Aziraphale's thoughts on the matter.  
  
"I'm not totally sure what you mean, precisely, but in any case, yes. I liked all of it. I get the feeling you're talking about the roleplay, though?" At Crowley's nod, he continued. "This... was just about what I had in mind, I think."  
  
"And, er... the way I talked to you. The stuff I said. What'd you think about that?"  
  
Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh at that. "I think you know the answer to that already, my dear. I very thoroughly enjoyed that." He drew his fingers fondly over Crowley's arm where it laid against him, smiling to himself as he thought about the performance they'd put on for each other. "It was so over the top, but... dear me, I really _did_ like it. You were so very right about it enhancing the scenario by pairing together with what we were doing. Though, I _do_ think that perhaps it's best left to its use in this context. It would lose its full value otherwise... and I must admit that I can't really imagine you speaking to me like that normally." He laughed again.  
  
Crowley all but melted in relief. "Yeah. 'M sure you could prob'ly tell I had fun with it, but I don't wanna talk to you like that if I'm not playing it up on purpose. Feels kinda wrong."  
  
Aziraphale turned to look at him properly, then. "How about me? I haven't said anything that's been uncomfortable for you, have I?"  
  
Crowley's eyes moved lazily over to meet his. "Hm? Nah. Would've told you."  
  
The angel rolled over onto his stomach, laying a batch of kisses over the prominent collarbone before replacing his mouth with his hands, drawing his fingers affectionately down through the hair on Crowley's chest and mapping out the landscape of him on _this side_ now, like he'd done earlier on his back. "The 'foul fiend's and 'filthy creature's and et cetera weren't too much?"  
  
"Mm-mm. Not at all. Those haven't had any bite behind 'em for a long time. Dunno if they _ever_ had any _real_ bite. Think they added to it, actually. Was trying my best to emphasize how depraved I'm s'posed to be, and all. Went well paired with that."  
  
"Mm." The tone of that hum had Crowley eyeing him. Aziraphale wasn't flat out wringing his hands, but Crowley could tell the urge was there. He was holding it back. "And I wasn't too forceful. I wasn't--"  
  
Since he had no benchmark to compare it against, Crowley couldn't blame him for worrying, but he still had no need to. The tables had turned, as they occasionally liked to. It was his turn to reassure. "Shh. Angel, relax. You were fine. You were _good_." He soothed, smoothing a hand through those blonde curls that had become well flattened by this point, between the sweat and everything else. "In fact, I wanna know how the fuck you _were_ so good."  
  
He hadn't even gone as far as Crowley had thought he might, which wasn't far to begin with, but Aziraphale's way of doing this suited him to a T. He'd still acted mostly as normal, really... just with a different energy behind it. He might've pinned Crowley down a bit, moved in him more desperately than he normally would, whispered some dirty words in his ear... but, as a whole, it had been his usual MO with a different coat of paint, essentially. It was easy to tell he'd done _everything_ he'd done for the sake of it making sense in the scene.   
  
He'd still asked Crowley at every step of the way, still continued to make sure he had what he needed from moment to moment. He'd expertly woven in his questions via use of the physical cues they'd established, but also by verbally framing them in a way that made sense in the situation. He'd said he was out of his depth, and maybe he had been, at the start... but, in the course of all of that, it seemed he'd found a spot to settle into.  
  
"Well, I..." He just looked at Crowley, temporarily at a loss for proper words. After a time, he huffed out a laugh. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Up until this very moment I didn't know if I _was_ any good. I wasn't sure how to gauge it properly. I still just sort of... followed your lead. The rest of it was instinct. I might have ended up tapping into a bit of that bastard side of me that you're so fond of for help, too. It seems that helped to carry things along?"  
  
"Yeah, I liked it. Was very you." Crowley thought he probably liked this better than whatever he might've pictured, actually. It was, for the most part, simply the usual thing that he very much enjoyed, with a little rearrangement and a fresh wrapping. "Seriously. Might have my preferences, but I love everything we do. Would've stopped you if it was too much. You asked me, right? With the taps, with your words... 'n I told you it was okay. You kept asking. You always do."   
  
Aziraphale briefly looked bashful at finally having it directly mentioned, but Crowley smiled at him and drew him up into a kiss, fondly bumping noses with him when he broke it again. "'S not a bad thing. Far from it. I haven't said before, but you checking on me like you do is just... amazing, y'know? Makes me feel loved. I mean, I _always_ feel loved by you... but when you do that, it's just... I dunno. It gets pushed past the border. I always think I'm never gonna get used to it, but I really don't _want_ to. I wanna keep feeling that forever."   
  
"I must admit that it's rather like a compulsion. I really _can't help_ but check on you. I want to always be sure that you're alright. I want you to have what you need, and nothing you don't."  
  
Crowley sighed pleasantly. "Never stop."   
  
"Oh, believe me, love... I'm certainly not planning to." If he was totally honest with himself, it would be quite an uphill battle to do so in the first place. This one was one of the easiest promises he would ever make.  
  
"Good."  
  
A broad thumb stroked his cheek. "I have another question for you, if you don't mind."  
  
"Yeah, shoot." Crowley replied, leaning into the touch.  
  
"Now that we've seen it through to its conclusion... do you think you might like to do something like that again? Would it interest you at all?"  
  
"Ngk. Uh... well, yeah. It would. Pretty easily, really. 'S kinda fun to play a character, even if it's just me from another time. You're right, I kinda liked poking the bastard part of you awake. And _Christ_, you were a quick learner on the whole dirty talk part of it. Thought I was gonna melt, hearing you say that stuff to me. Coulda blown my load right there when you told me I had a sinful cock, for fuck's sake. That was _amazing_."  
  
Aziraphale turned a bit pink. _"Goodness_. Do you really mean that?"  
  
"Yeah, Angel." And then, quite suddenly, they were both pink. "...can I ask you a couple of things, too?"  
  
"Of course, darling. Always."  
  
Crowley cleared his throat. "When I, uh... mentioned the thing about shackles, you looked at me funny. You didn't say anything, so I kinda brushed it off, but... was that really okay with you, what I said?"  
  
It wasn't the very first time he had _thought_ about something like this, only the first time he'd _said_ anything about it. That old debate he'd had in his head about whether he wanted Aziraphale to use him had definitely dragged thoughts of some of that stuff up along with it, too.  
  
It took a moment for Aziraphale to recall what he was talking about, but when he did, Crowley could tell. His expression changed a bit. "Oh! Yes. Of course it was. You really haven't said anything that bothered me, I promise. Quite the contrary. The moment was just sort of... revelational for me, I suppose. When you said that, did you mean it? You'd let me restrain you like that?" The thumb moved its way down, sweeping over Crowley's jaw to a new resting place on his chin, and the angel used that same calm stroking motion from before, guiding the pad over Crowley's bottom lip.  
  
It made him shiver, and he drew his arm in closer around Aziraphale, but he managed to stay together enough to not melt into a puddle. "Well... yeah. I _did_ mean it. I trust you." Somehow, his answer was still steady.  
  
Crowley had declared his trust many times before, but for some reason it hit Aziraphale differently this time. Almost certainly, it had to be because the implication was so much different in this case. "Well, if you think something like that would gratify you, I wouldn't mind taking a stab at it. You would just have to allow me time to research, so I could make sure I know how to do it properly and wouldn't somehow hurt you."   
  
The fact that he'd already been worried of being too forceful when he'd hardly done anything at all told Crowley all he needed to know about that part of it, really. His careful nature would be helpful, but he'd have to learn to better balance it with his confidence. But confidence came with solid knowledge, generally, and that was especially true in the angel's case. When it came to this, _if_ it came to this, his preferred approach of proper study would be best, because neither of them wanted the stated outcome. If they pursued this implied path, even if they only sprinkled it in with everything else, it was already more than crystal clear that pain wouldn't be an accepted component. As it had been established, Crowley didn't want to be hurt, and Aziraphale certainly didn't want to hurt him, either.  
  
When it came to the research itself, he'd always highly prefer his print sources, of course, but there was no doubt he'd almost _have to_ turn to online reference points, too. That could be an issue, since the internet was a lawless wasteland, in its own way, and potentially quite harmful if you didn't know how to avoid the pitfalls. He would just have to try to make sure Aziraphale stayed _away_ from the bad corners, in that case. It wouldn't do at all to have him learning the wrong things.   
  
"As I've said, I'm... quite out of my depth, when we're speaking of things outside the scope of what we've already done. I haven't been doing _any_ of this for very long, after all. That, and I'm a blank slate, all told. I find that I much prefer to hand you the chalk, to mark my slate, as it were. I have few specific desires of my own, and seeing that we've discovered them together, you know all of them. I must admit... when I satisfy you, that basically does it for me all on its own. I don't need much else." His thumb made a brief diversion to give attention to the corner of Crowley's mouth. "Of course, that's not to say I don't enjoy when you give me attention. You know that's very far from true. It's just that... in the other circumstance, when it involves both of us, knowing that I've fulfilled you goes a long way towards getting me gratified, too. And, of course, I do quite enjoy how it feels, as a general rule."  
  
The last part of that had Crowley smiling to himself. "Oh, believe me, Angel. I can tell you like it." Further insight into the particulars of some of _what_ he liked about it was nice, though. It was another thing they felt similarly about, from the sound of it.  
  
Truth be told, Crowley was a bit out of his own depth when thinking of this, too. He didn't really know if any sort of full blown kink (he realized there was an argument to be made that what they'd done today [and had essentially just made a date to do _again_] fell somewhere under that umbrella, but he was still thinking of other things) was something he _actively_ wanted to try... it had been, for the most part, at least, something he'd alluded to for flavor in the scene. He enjoyed the spot they were already in quite immensely. Still, it _did_ give him some kind of security to know that there was a back door there, should he decide he'd like to have a sample of that. As with most other things, it seemed all he needed to do was ask.  
  
Aziraphale gave him a moment of silence, to soak it in, before addressing him again. "You said you wanted to ask me things, plural. What else was it?"  
  
The gear in Crowley's mind shifted, and it had him fidgeting a bit. "Well... y'know how you're always asking me to believe in you? I know I might not deserve it right now, with how I've acted... but someday I want that from you, too. I hope I'll earn it... for you to be able to trust I'll actually tell you if I don't like stuff. I can, can't I? 'S not off the table, right?"  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. "You've made mistakes, certainly. We both have. But you haven't done anything catastrophic, dear. Growing pains are to be expected as we learn." He told him, returning both of his hands to Crowley's chest and drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly with his fingertips. "I must say that there's nothing for you to earn from me, though. It may be true that I feel I should monitor you a bit more closely for the moment, until you're back on completely stable ground, but I do believe in you, my love. In many ways. If I didn't trust you to truthfully answer me when I ask if you're alright, I wouldn't be comfortable to continue our physical relationship until I thought I could, it's as simple as that. And we would _certainly_ not be discussing the potentiality of something that, while I know little else about it, I do know _requires_ a deep mutual trust. I know what you may be thinking, and it's true that you may have stumbled, earlier, but you still weren't _lying_ to me. You got overwhelmed, and you panicked. There's a difference. We worked that out, anyway. The fact that we're here should tell you that you should pay it no mind. You haven't lost my trust. We went forward _because_ I trusted you. I apologize if I've given you cause to think otherwise on any of that."  
  
Crowley playfully tapped the tip of his nose in response to his apology. "Mm-mm. Only room for one worrier in this relationship, and that's definitely gotta be me. No way you're ever gonna beat me at that, so you better just give up."  
  
"You really mustn't worry so much either, though. Don't just accept it. Fight it, where you can. One of our end goals is to break you of that, if you'd forgotten."   
  
The demon's hand pressed flat to his back, stroking over it with a soft and slow sweeping motion. "Yeah. Dunno how long it'll take, but... we will, in the end. I know you'll help me do that. You're brilliant, absolutely brilliant. Have I told you that yet?"  
  
Aziraphale chuckled. "You're so good at flattering me, dearest." And not bad at making him feel warm with the touch of his hand, either, as it turned out.  
  
Crowley couldn't help but laugh too. "Had a lot of practice. But it's not _just_ flattery. I always mean it, y'know."  
  
Aziraphale smiled. "I know."  
  
It easily brought that downy soft glow right back to the moment, and they fell together into one of those easy, companionable silences. Crowley eventually dozed off, with his hand still moving even through sleep, and as Aziraphale prepared to settle in, deciding not to disentangle himself from Crowley so as not to risk waking him, he thought he might never have been more in love with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The beast has at last been tamed and now I can rest
> 
> I find now that we've finally reached the end of this section I haven't got much to say except that while the one here is especially obvious, I do drop these little threads quite often to leave myself with options and you never know when I might pick them back up! Not sure if you guys had noticed that but there it is if not :P
> 
> As ever do feel free to visit me on [tumblr](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/)!


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley stretched awake, with a cute sound he'd be likely never to claim had he been aware of it, and the first thing he felt was a blanket slipping off his shoulders, disturbed by his stirring. At some point during the night, Aziraphale had unwound from him, put some bottoms on him, and tucked him in. Of course, that was after he'd had a moment of softness, catching a glimpse of his ring back on Crowley's finger. He'd hidden it with an illusion temporarily while they'd been playing.
> 
> "Good morning, dear." Came the voice, as expected, from beside him. 'Morning' was getting to be a bit generous at this point, as it was starting to tip toward afternoon... but, barring any time sensitive plans they made, he always let Crowley sleep in. He'd gotten up to make some tea a few hours prior, and had gotten dressed at that point, as well.
> 
> The second thing Crowley felt was a pair of eyes appreciating him from behind. He looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale, catching that gaze, and offered him a sleepy smile. "Morning."

Crowley stretched awake, with a cute sound he'd be likely never to claim had he been aware of it, and the first thing he felt was a blanket slipping off his shoulders, disturbed by his stirring. At some point during the night, Aziraphale had unwound from him, put some bottoms on him, and tucked him in. Of course, that was after he'd had a moment of softness, catching a glimpse of his ring back on Crowley's finger. He'd hidden it with an illusion temporarily while they'd been playing.  
  
"Good morning, dear." Came the voice, as expected, from beside him. 'Morning' was getting to be a bit generous at this point, as it was starting to tip toward afternoon... but, barring any time sensitive plans they made, he always let Crowley sleep in. He'd gotten up to make some tea a few hours prior, and had gotten dressed at that point, as well.  
  
The second thing Crowley felt was a pair of eyes appreciating him from behind. He looked over his shoulder at Aziraphale, catching that gaze, and offered him a sleepy smile. "Morning."  
  
Aziraphale returned the smile, reaching over to ruffle Crowley's hair. "You slept pretty well." He had, compared to normal. There'd still been a decent amount of tossing and turning, but at least it seemed that he hadn't had any nightmares.  
  
Crowley pressed up into the touch. "Yeah. I feel rested."  
  
"Good." There was nothing in his expression or his tone that read anything less than completely pleased. "You know, you're quite a sight right now, my love. It has to be said."  
  
Crowley's ears turned pink at that. "Ngk." He knew Aziraphale was talking about the marks littered over his skin. They'd all at least turned a lovely shade of red by now. A few of them had gone closer to purple. "You like it, then?"  
  
Aziraphale diverted his hand just enough to brush Crowley's hair off of his visible ear to actually expose it. "Yes, I certainly _do_. It really couldn't be understated, I dare think."  
  
Crowley rolled over lithely, propping himself up on his elbow, and grinned, obviously enjoying the way Aziraphale's eyes swept over _that_ side of him afterward. "Me too. You looking at me like this? What's not to like?"  
  
"Oh, hush." The smile crinkled his eyes, and stayed there even as he regarded Crowley more seriously. "No regrets, then?"  
  
The question and the tone in which he'd asked it had Crowley's intuition telling him that he might have already been researching a bit. It definitely sounded like an 'Aziraphale on a new concept' tone, at least. He wasn't sure he would've expected otherwise, really. It was in Aziraphale's nature to try and plan and prepare for any eventualities, and he had quite a decent amount of free time on his hands when Crowley slept. It just so happened that he'd been handed a brand new idea, so it was like a perfect storm. "Not a one, Angel. It was perfect."  
  
"I'm happy to hear that, sweetest." He stroked Crowley's sleep messy hair again, pressing his fingers through to draw them against his scalp. "And... you're fine with everything we talked about, too? The... potentialities, and whatnot?"  
  
The deeper meaning behind this question was pretty clear to Crowley; he was asking if Crowley meant to take any of that back, now that the heat of the moment had gone. He was giving him the chance to re-evaluate.  
  
Crowley wiggled in close, throwing his arms around Aziraphale and pressing up against his side. It was a chance he didn't need. He still felt the same, overflowing with dopamine and oxytocin or no. "Yeah. 'M rock steady, Angel." Speaking of talking, though... "So, actually, there's something else I meant to ask you last night. Got, uh... distracted."  
  
"Oh? What is it?"  
  
"'S not related to er... to _that_." He rubbed his cheeks against Aziraphale as if attempting to scrub the pink out of them. "It's just-- did you... really get caught on purpose?"  
  
Aziraphale looked slightly guilty. "Not _completely_."  
  
Crowley leaned back a bit to look at him, and his expression blanked even further when he saw the one the angel was wearing. He didn't know what he'd expected, exactly, but it definitely wasn't a middling answer. It was at least a clear yes or no. "The _fuck_ does that mean?"  
  
Aziraphale's hand dropped, and he traced a finger over the ridge of Crowley's shoulder blade. It occurred to him suddenly that these were the closest approximation humans had to wings, and his touch turned even fonder at that thought. "The main points of the story I originally told you were true. I was peckish, I went for some crepes, and I got caught. However, you know as well as I do that I could've gotten away, with the use of my 'angel magic', as you like to call it. If I had explained I was in a potentially fatal situation, I would have been forgiven for whatever I had to do in order to escape. I think, anyway."  
  
Crowley found himself agreeing with the last part the most, the uncertainty. Not only did he not trust them to begin with, he _particularly_ didn't trust them when it came to treating Aziraphale right. They had proven to be grossly incompetent on many things, but especially that.  
  
"If things had proven dire, I would've risked another reprimand in order to extract myself. Of course I would've done. Discorporation may not be as permanent as a human death, but it still isn't pleasant. And not to mention the _paperwork_." To anyone else, this would've sounded like a mix up of priorities, to be more concerned about the paperwork than losing one's body, but current situation aside, Crowley understood completely. "I genuinely _did_ believe that you would come, that was why I stayed. You fed me that line about happening to be in the area, but I _knew_, Crowley. I always knew."  
  
"Ngk." Said Crowley, hauling himself up to swing his leg over Aziraphale and straddle him. "W-Well... I knew, too. Always thought something was fishy. Y'gave me this sob story about getting reprimanded, but you didn't have a problem miracling something as stupid as a clothes swap not _one minute_ later."  
  
Aziraphale reached up to stroke Crowley's cheek, a feather light touch of his fingertips over the sensitive skin. "And the fact that neither of us have said anything about it until this very moment means that it was simply a cog in the machine of our back and forth, my dear."  
  
"Mmf. Yeah, probably."  
  
The angel smiled, feeling Crowley's face heat under his touch. "Now, do you have any ideas in mind for how you'd like to spend the day?"  
  
"Well... maybe just one, for the moment. Y'think you might... finally let me tell you about my nightmare?" He asked, leaning down to Aziraphale with his hands on the other's shoulders for balance so he could kiss him.  
  
Aziraphale graciously accepted and returned the kiss, moving his hand to the back of Crowley's head to keep him close when they broke apart. "I've no objections to that. You're feeling up for a session, today?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. Little one, at least."  
  
Unable to help himself, Aziraphale pressed at the back of Crowley's head, urging him back down enough to give him another little kiss. "Would you like to tend your plants, first?"  
  
"Mm... nah. I'm ready to go now." Crowley hummed, reluctantly slipping free of Aziraphale's hand to climb off him again, before he managed to get one or both of them distracted.  
  
"Alright, then."  
  
"Can we do this one out on the balcony, d'you think?" Crowley asked, standing up and stretching his arms high over his head.  
  
Aziraphale peeled the blanket off his legs, following Crowley out of the bed. "I don't see why not. You'd like some fresh air?"  
  
"Yeah." Crowley looked at him sort of shyly as he approached. "Is it too much if I sit on your lap while we do it?"  
  
In response to that, he got his hair ruffled again. "Of course not, dear." The fondness in Aziraphale's eyes meeting the tenderness of his touch almost made him whine, with the way it made his heart beat faster, but he held the sound back. It was funny that it still had this much of an effect on him, but he didn't want that to change, either. As an afterthought, he leaned over to pluck one of the lighter blankets from the edge of the bed, draping it over his shoulders as he left the room.  
  
Aziraphale trailed along behind him, only overtaking him once the sliding door was opened, so he could lift, scratch out the sigil under, then replace and sit in what had miraculously become a deck chair. He didn't have to wait long before Crowley joined him, gladly crawling into his lap and adjusting the blanket over them.  
  
"Is it comfortable, darling?"  
  
Crowley sunk into him rather bonelessly, and so he had his answer before the demon even spoke up. "Mmf. You have no idea. Could probably go back to sleep like this."  
  
Aziraphale laughed, briefly resting his chin on Crowley's shoulder. "Well, if you'd rather..."  
  
"Mm-mm. Wanna do this."  
  
"Alright." With that, he brought the circle up, letting one of his hands settle against Crowley's hip. "This is a story I've been anxiously waiting to hear. Of course, I've been wondering: _what_ had that much of an effect on you?"  
  
Crowley huffed. "Well, I coulda told it sooner."  
  
Aziraphale shook his head. "It was best to wait, love. To put some distance in between, to make sure you could handle recounting it. You did the right thing, not forcing it."  
  
"Y'mean you made me do the right thing. 'S what you're good at."  
  
"I may have prodded you along, but it was ultimately in your hands."  
  
Crowley pouted at him, nudging him in the side with his elbow. "Just take the damn compliment, Angel."  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "Oh, I will. Only with that asterisk beside it, though."  
  
Crowley snorted at him, but made no other reply.   
  
After a moment of silence, Aziraphale hummed. "Any time you'd like to begin, feel free, darling."  
  
"Um, well... first thing I remember is falling. Not, like, _**the** Fall_ from Heaven, but... still fell into Hell, though." He hadn't considered before this moment that it could've had a deeper meaning.  
  
"Ah." Already, some of the distress made sense, even before Crowley had gone too deeply into the contents of his nightmare. The setting itself would've done a good job at spiking his anxiety.  
  
"Was in... some random room. Never seen it before. Tried to figure out how I got there, but kept blanking. Then I heard a noise behind me. I turned around and I saw Ligur at the desk."  
  
"Ligur?"  
  
"The... uh, the pile of clothes you cleaned up."  
  
"Oh!" Yes, Crowley had told him. He'd mentioned the name, at least. He'd forgotten, but it came back to him in a flash. He'd been so rattled by observing the remnants of the Holy Water that he'd accidentally used a fraction of his Divine voice on Crowley. It seemed like ages had passed, since then. Looking at the development of their relationship, perhaps that was the truth. It felt like they had been through at least a couple of eras after that.  
  
"I knew there was no way he was there for real... I mean... I watched him get destroyed right in front of me. I saw his face melt, as the bucket fell on his head. It was _awful_. Gruesome as fuck. But... that was enough to make me sure he was dead. So, how was he in front of me like nothing happened? I talked to him, but he didn't say anything back. He never did."  
  
"His presence rattled you that much?"  
  
"Mm-mm. Wasn't just that. He pulled out a bucket, 'n I could hear the Water in it. I kinda... freaked out a little bit. Didn't have a panic attack, but my fight or flight kicked in. Ran from him. Got away a bit, then ran straight into Hastur. You'll know him as the guy I got mad at for burning the hospital. Or, maybe... my 'old friend' I mentioned to you on the phone."  
  
Suddenly it dawned on Aziraphale. "Wait. Crowley... did _that_ happen when I called you?" It couldn't have, could it? Surely he would've heard something in the background.  
  
Crowley grimaced. "Right before. He was still steaming on the floor."  
  
Aziraphale swallowed reflexively. "Good Lord." He almost felt sick. He hadn't realized the danger Crowley had been in, on the other end of that call. Of course, he'd contacted him in the first place to try and coordinate with him, despite their fight...  
  
"But Hastur... honestly, I'm not sure which one of them scared me more, in my nightmare. He didn't talk to me either. The sleazy fuck was just standing there, smoking a cigarette on the corner. Almost literally ran right into him. I really should've known. You never got one of them without the other one being close by. In some way, I guess, they were a set, like us. Except fucked up in about a thousand different ways. No love there, just a bond over being a pair of twisted goddamned sadists, if I had to say."  
  
Aziraphale's hand found Crowley's, and his fingers slipped in between his demon's, giving a light squeeze. "They chased you?"  
  
"Yeah." Crowley sighed. "I didn't spend much time down there, so they had me at a disadvantage. I was running, but I didn't know where I was going. I started freaking out in the usual way, after a bit... I wanted to hide. Get my breath back. Picked a door, tried it, and it was open. But... there was a reason it was open. Nobody'd wanna go in there. It was... the room they do the executions in."  
  
"...the one with the bathtub?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Oh, dear." It was said in sympathy. The stench of evil in that room had been unimaginable.  
  
"They... took you to that room." It wasn't a question. He knew. Aziraphale had told him, already. They'd known precisely how it would go beforehand, too. Their big body swapping plan had hinged quite heavily on the fact that Hell was a creative vacuum.  
  
It was just that talking about it after the fact, when it had actually happened, felt different.  
  
"Yes. Just as we'd planned, of course." Aziraphale sighed. "I... sometimes I think about it, and I'm not sure how I managed to get through that. I mean, I did. I had to. I suppose it could be said I did it with a flourish, even. I think you would've been pretty amused if you'd been able to see me finesse my way through. But... it wasn't the _outside_ of me that I was concerned about."   
  
He drew in a slightly ragged inhale. "There's nothing that can compare to looking up and seeing your worst nightmare made real, I know that as well as you. Even without all the grandstanding they were putting on, it was horrifying. An _angel_ had brought Holy Water to kill you. As I looked at your reflection in the glass, and then in the Water itself, I thought... couldn't help but think, what if we _hadn't_ figured it out, what Agnes Nutter meant? What if it actually _was_ you that they'd caught? The mix of you and Holy Water was something I'd been actively fearing for centuries, and it was happening right in front of my eyes. I was sick over the idea, and also worrying about how things were going on your end at the same time. We could easily figure out what Hell would do, but we didn't know exactly what my former side was going to do."  
  
It lifted Crowley's spirits a bit to hear him refer to Heaven that way out loud, despite the heaviness of the subject matter weighing them down. His thumb brushed over the back of Aziraphale's hand, an instinctive, tiny reassurance.  
  
"Oh. Thank you, dear." Aziraphale took a moment, centering himself. "I'm sorry for interrupting, go ahead."  
  
Crowley shook his head. "Mm-mm. If you've got something to say, I wanna hear it. You know better than that. C'mon, Angel. Don't make me scold you." He summoned up his best imitation of a librarian looking down their glasses at someone.  
  
Not that Aziraphale had ever had any trouble with that, as naturally he'd always been a respectful patron of libraries, before he'd decided to settle down and make his own, masquerading as a bookshop. It was easier to prevent his books from leaving his side if he could make up a reason not to sell them, which he'd gotten quite good at doing over the last couple of centuries. He'd have much less flexibility on that if it came to borrowing them, and that had been the ultimate decision maker.  
  
The one and only time he'd ever gotten scolded like that, ironically, it was Crowley's fault. The demon hadn't understood the expectation of quiet in a library, and they'd gotten one of those dreaded shushes. It had sounded enough like a hiss to freak Crowley out and scare him into shutting up.  
  
Despite himself, Aziraphale totally melted in the face of Crowley's ploy to make him laugh, and was easily defeated by it. "Of course, dear." He said, smiling as he leaned over to press a little kiss to Crowley's cheek. "I'll do better at keeping that in mind."  
  
"Good." Crowley said, giving a huff that added the 'you'd better' for him, so he didn't have to say it. "So, I, uh... I stayed there a minute and tried to calm down. I remember doing my breathing stuff. It didn't work like it usually does, and I just ended up freaking out more, when they started trying to bust down the door."  
  
"They tried to get to you?"  
  
"Yeah. I ran out the back way."  
  
Aziraphale's forehead creased. That had been the way Michael had come in. "What happened then, love?"  
  
"Kept running down the hall 'til I heard something. First sign I had of anybody else, so I went to it. In Hell... most of the demons travel in packs. It's kinda weird. They move in a big ass mob, like zombies, sorta."  
  
Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked. "Zombies?"  
  
Crowley could damn near_ sense_ it, and it made him turn his head slightly so he could get a look. "Y'know, undead. Humans use 'em a lot in their fiction. Like... White Walkers?"  
  
"Oh! Oh, right." It was pretty funny how quickly saying that made him get it. His specialty was rooted in a much older era of fiction (and nonfiction, of course), but obviously he had his contemporary interests, too.   
  
"Anyway, I joined 'em. Thought I could hide pretty well in there. Worked, too."  
  
Aziraphale could hear that pause indicating there was more to be said. "But?"  
  
"Well... after a while I saw this door, on the way past. Dunno what it was, but something told me I _had_ to get through it. Some kinda intuition."  
  
"How did you get through?"  
  
"Well, _first_ I beat both of my hands to a pulp, 'cause I'm a class A idiot." Crowley sighed. "Could be forgiven, since I was freaking out at the time. Instinct took over, I guess."   
  
"Poor thing." Aziraphale hummed, lifting Crowley's hand that he was holding to his lips, pressing affection into the knuckles, where Crowley's hand was likely to have been damaged the most.  
  
Crowley sighed again, but this time it had a different tone to it entirely. "Ran at it, in the end, and it busted open. But then I was in the dark. Turned around, and the door was gone. Like, _completely_ gone. I was in the dark, alone. For a while it was quiet, but then I heard a voice. At first I thought it was one of them, maybe they'd chased me through, so I got angry and started yelling at them to fuck off."  
  
Aziraphale couldn't help a little huffed out laugh at that. "That certainly sounds like you."  
  
"Rude." Crowley jerked his head back to playfully bump Aziraphale with it. "But... it wasn't them. Couldn't tell, at first, 'cause I just heard my name. Then I looked, and I saw this little spark of light in the dark. My feet started moving to it on their own."  
  
Aziraphale felt his heart thump a bit harder on its next beat, like it had already put together what had happened and was waiting for the rest of him to catch up.  
  
"'Crowley' turned into 'Crowley, you're dreaming. It's time to wake up, my love.'"  
  
The angel let out a breath he scarcely realized he'd been holding. "Me. It was me."  
  
"When I heard those two words... 'my love', I knew. Suddenly I could hear your voice clearly, and I could tell it was you." Crowley confirmed. "You brought me back. You got through to me, even in that fucked up nightmare. You said 'Wake up for me, I know you can.' and I knew I was gonna get back to you. I reached your light, I touched it, and then I woke up."  
  
Aziraphale was at a loss for words, for a while. He hid his face in Crowley's neck, showering him with affection. Some base part of his brain figured that his kisses could say more than words, right now, and it turned out that it was right.  
  
Crowley sat in the silence with him, enjoying his attention, and giving his own fond touch to the outside of Aziraphale's thigh, in a slow stroke. Aziraphale had told him a bit more about the trial in Hell, and he should probably tell him about Gabriel, but... it didn't seem the time, somehow. He'd get to it next time.  
  
Just as he thought that, he felt the circle drop, and Aziraphale stirred out of place. He'd lost his focus.  
  
Crowley's heart felt lighter, though, and now it was telling him something else. "Hey, Angel?"  
  
He looked down at the top of Crowley's head expectantly. "Yes, dear?"   
  
But Crowley didn't turn to look up at him, he simply rolled over onto his side and curled up into him, wiggling into a comfortable position with the side of his face pressed to Aziraphale's chest. "Go back to work tomorrow."  
  
He felt like he was ready to try standing on his own two feet again, finally.  
  
As gentle arms moved to hold him, Aziraphale's equally gentle laughter rolled over him. "Alright."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am officially back on my bullshit! I wrote 2/3 of this over the last 12 hours or so. My secret is music from Nier Automata. It's an amazing game but most importantly it has a phenomenal OST and City Ruins (Rays of Light) in particular has saved my ass several times. Not saying it'll work for everyone ever but try it if you're ever in a rut :P
> 
> At last our precious snek is mostly recovered from his episode. Bless him 🙏


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale was afforded two weeks of relative peace, after he returned to work. No books had left his hand, and he'd had few patrons headstrong enough to try and argue with him when he gave the typical excuses. 'Oh, I apologize, that book is actually on hold for someone. It was left on the shelf by mistake. Yes, I'm _terribly_ sorry.' and similar.
> 
> But then, on the 15th day, about 14 days worth of things happened all at once.

Aziraphale was afforded two weeks of relative peace, after he returned to work. No books had left his hand, and he'd had few patrons headstrong enough to try and argue with him when he gave the typical excuses. 'Oh, I apologize, that book is actually on hold for someone. It was left on the shelf by mistake. Yes, I'm _terribly_ sorry.' and similar.  
  
But then, on the 15th day, about 14 days worth of things happened all at once.  
  
After he had battled away three groups; a husband and wife duo that were aggressively shopping for children's books for their newly adopted child, of which he had none except the ones Adam had left for him (that he obviously had absolutely no intention to part with)... a handful of university students, likely sent 'round by the nice young woman he'd helped before, except that these ones were infinitely rowdier and more demanding, so he'd let them walk away with nothing... and finally, a gaggle of old ladies, insistently inviting him to their book club, because 'You seem like the sort that knows a lot of gossip, Mr. Fell!', he had been looking forward to a respite.   
  
Patronage usually lulled at lunchtime, which made perfect sense to him. Eating was very important, after all, and in the immediate vicinity of the shop there existed only a handful of restaurants. He could almost always count on this downtime, as a result. He'd sat down and had begun to entertain thoughts of calling Crowley to see how he was getting on, when the door dinged again, surprising him.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"One moment, I'll be right there." Aziraphale answered, from the back room. He sat his cocoa aside and took a second to get himself together before leaving his safe space once more, going out into the main area of the bookshop.  
  
There he was met by a squat, unassuming man, with rather large, round glasses that didn't quite fit his face, but otherwise he was fairly put together. His mustache was neatly trimmed, and there were a few flecks of silver scattered through his well-kempt hair. He wore a nicely fitting suit, paired with a tie that made Aziraphale unable to help but wonder what Crowley would say about the pattern it was sporting.  
  
"Is there something I can help you with, sir?"  
  
"Mr. Fell, I presume?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The man offered his hand. "My name is Donley."  
  
Aziraphale shook the hand, and smiled pleasantly. This interaction was already leagues better than any of the others he'd had today, at least. It made him significantly more inclined to be friendly at the start. "Is there something I can do for you, Mr. Donley?"  
  
"Actually, I think it just might be the other way around, in this situation."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
"Yes. You see, I'm here as part of a committee that organizes large scale, invite only auctions. We specialize in rare and antique items, in particular, and our book auction is coming up in a couple of months."  
  
The wheels in Aziraphale's brain suddenly started spinning so fast that it shut down, briefly. He wasn't quite sure how to make a refusal of this scale. "Oh. Oh... I'm flattered, but..."  
  
As if he were seeing his distress, Donley reached out to gingerly pat Aziraphale on the shoulder. "It's alright, my good chap." The man laughed, good-naturedly. "You needn't feel obligated to _sell_ anything through us, Mr. Fell. I've come here today to extend you an invitation to attend as a buyer, if that strikes your fancy. I was in the area on some other business, already, and I thought I'd drop by to see if you were in. You can be a difficult person to get into contact with, I've found!"  
  
Aziraphale had the wits about him to look guilty. "Ah, I'm sorry about that."  
  
He wasn't actually sorry at all, though.  
  
"Oh, no, it's quite alright. It's just that I've had word of some of your impressive personal collections, and we've had some spots free up recently, so I had the thought that it may interest a man of the trade such as yourself to come and see what pops up on offer. We've had some very impressive pieces come through, in the past."  
  
"Is it a day long affair, or?"  
  
"_Five_ days, actually. We start on Monday, the week of, and the auctions take place from 9am to 4pm every day. We wrap up on Friday. You needn't attend every day, if you wouldn't like to, but you never know what you may miss if you don't."  
  
"And where does the auction take place, if I may ask?"  
  
"This year we'll be in the Leeds area."  
  
Aziraphale hummed to himself. He had to admit that he'd been interested, but he also had to admit that it had dampened his enthusiasm to find that out. He _could_ commute there every day, certainly, but it would be much more convenient to stay... it was only that staying meant leaving Crowley alone. "Must I decide at this very moment? I have some rather important things that I'm tending to at home currently, and I'm not certain I'll be able to leave London for that long."  
  
"Oh, of course not." The man fished for something in his breast pocket, and came up with a business card. "Here's my card. Either method of contact is fine, you can call me or email me." He smiled.  
Aziraphale took the card, briefly looked over it, and then tucked it into his own pocket. "Right. I'll be in touch, then. Either way that I decide, I will let you know. You have my word."  
  
Donley nodded. "I look forward to hearing from you, then." He turned to go toward the door, but pivoted back around to face Aziraphale again. "Oh, and there's one more thing I wanted to ask you. I've just remembered. The Bentley out front... is it yours?"  
  
"Oh!" Aziraphale was briefly surprised, but then again, the man _would_ notice such a thing. Antiques were his business. "Yes. Well, sort of. It's my partner's, technically, but we share it."  
  
The glorious flutter of love that filled him upon getting the opportunity to refer to Crowley as his partner in conversation with someone else was something he immediately decided to hold close to his chest so he wouldn't forget it.  
  
"Ah, I see. You certainly do have good taste, Mr. Fell. In books, as well as in partner, it seems. It's a very nice car, and I noticed it right off. Obviously it's quite vintage, and I'd like to commend you on taking such good care of it."  
  
It was all he could do to keep from laughing, because Crowley had really done everything but try to take care of it, the way he drove. But still, somehow he'd managed to get it this far without even a single scratch, temporary destruction aside. "I'll pass along the compliments, certainly." He said, but rather thought he should just keep them for himself after all since he was much more careful with it.  
  
"Please do." The man extended his hand again, and Aziraphale took it to give him another firm shake. "I'll be off, then. It's been a pleasure, Mr. Fell. I hope to speak with you again soon."  
  
"Likewise, Mr. Donley." Aziraphale said, walking him to the door with a soft smile. "I hope the rest of your day is pleasant."  
  
"I wish the same for you, Mr. Fell. Take care, now." The man said, and then exited, leaving Aziraphale alone once more.  
  
Donley had been quite warm and pleasant to interact with, more than most humans, and especially the ones he'd encountered today. But he was glad to have his solitude back, at least for the moment.  
  
How long that would last, he couldn't say, with how the day was going.  
  
He returned to the back room, to his cocoa that was quite miraculously still hot, and to his efforts at cataloging.  
  
After about half an hour, with an empty mug, he reached an even stopping point. He sat back, pulled open his bottom desk drawer, and pulled out a small, wooden, cloth wrapped box.  
  
Today, Crowley had sent him off with lunch.  
  
_'Started out watching videos 'bout sushi. Thought I might be able to learn to make it for you. 'Bout five videos later, I'm sitting there watching a Japanese mom make lunchboxes for her kid. Dunno how the fuck that happened exactly, but it seemed pretty easy and looked like something you'd like, so I tried it. Lemme know what you think.'_  
  
The demon's words were echoing in his head, and Aziraphale wished he was there with him, so he could hug him again, like he had when he'd initially been surprised with this.  
  
He opened the lid of the box, and the wave of fondness that washed over him was almost physically painful. It might've knocked him flat if he wasn't already sitting down. He felt his eyebrows raise, and the smile that overtook him felt like it was so wide it was threatening to split his face in two.  
  
In the largest compartment of the box, there was a rice sculpture of a black snake curled protectively around a single white feather. He marveled at the intricate detail, and could only imagine the work that must've gone into it. The rice making up the snake part of the sculpture was wrapped tightly in seaweed, to give it the black color, with little circles cut out of cheese topped by thin slivers of the same seaweed forming the eyes, and, upon turning the box up at a slight angle, he could see that Crowley had applied some red food coloring to the rice underbelly.  
  
There were three smaller compartments along the side of the box, and they contained the following; in the first, three slices of apple... the skin of each slice carefully trimmed away, leaving only a bit meant to resemble a rabbit's ears, in the second, another trio... this time it was little sausages that were slit into an octopus shape and cooked to give the tentacles a slight curl, and the third one contained an assortment of cut up greens.  
  
Aziraphale found that he almost couldn't bear to eat it, it was so well crafted, and obviously made with love.  
  
An idea came to him, suddenly. He took out his phone and snapped a somewhat clumsy photo, but somehow he'd managed to get a clear shot. Now he would be able to look back on this whenever he wanted.  
  
He put away his phone again, then plucked the attached chopsticks out from their holder on the outside of the box, and after another little pause, finally pinched away some of the rice, only to find that it was filled with crab.  
  
"Oh, Crowley." He sighed, raising the food to his mouth reverently.  
  
In some way, the two of them were still doing a little bit of a back and forth. The form it took now was just _much_ nicer. A night and day difference, really.  
  
They each had this habit of thinking that they couldn't _possibly_ love the other one any more, but so far it had always turned out that they were wrong, a fact which had been repeatedly exposed the instant one of them did something affectionate that was in some way unexpected.  
  
As he ate, thinking about how much trouble the other had gone to for him, his conviction that he was going to kiss Crowley breathless and stupid when he got home became stronger and stronger.  
  
By the time the box was actually empty, and he was sitting there, basking in his post meal glow, he wanted to do nothing more.  
  
_Chirp. _  
  
The sound instantly made him smile. It tended to happen this way, but it was like thinking about Crowley had summoned him. He fished his phone out of his pocket again, and in the boxes that had popped up on the screen, he found:  
  
**Crowley**  
Was gonna call but thought you might be busy  
**  
Crowley**  
What d'you want for dinner Angel  
  
The first message was composed of pure cheek, and it made Aziraphale laugh, able to practically hear Crowley's tone of delivery in his head. He went home every day and told Crowley about his day, so he knew how peaceful they had been up to this point. He couldn't have possibly known that in this instance he was actually right.  
  
As for what he'd like to eat... he really wasn't sure. He smiled again, thinking of Crowley zooming about the kitchen in his apron. It was a quite consistent habit he had when he cooked, now.  
  
He had probably also been doing that while he prepared that lunch box, too. Come to think of it, Aziraphale sort of had to wonder how Crowley had hidden it from him, when it had clearly taken some time and effort, but the fact that he'd wanted so badly to surprise him with it made it even more endearing, somehow.  
  
Seeing the capital 'A' Angel always made him feel warm inside, too. Even before it was obvious, he'd long since known it was a pet name, and not Crowley pointing out what he was. That meant he'd been reading it this way in the demon's speech for quite a while now, but still. It had been nice to see it unequivocally confirmed, regardless.  
  
He somewhat clumsily opened the messages properly, slowly yet steadily tapping out a response.  
  
_Surprise me, dear. It should probably be something you can finish cooking within a couple of hours, if you would like to eat right when I get home. I don't imagine I'll linger around here for much longer today. _  
_I'll be back before you know it._  
  
_By the way, thank you so much for making the lunch box for me. It was as delicious as it was adorable. I'll thank you properly when I come home._  
  
_I love you._  
  
Obviously he had a much different messaging style than Crowley. It had taken him a few goes (and Crowley playfully teasing him about it a couple of times) to get used to the idea that they weren't letters and he didn't have to sign his name to them, since that was the point of someone having you in their contacts, but most of the rest of the structure had been left intact.  
  
The last bit of his message was the most important, of course, and was always included at least once per conversation.  
  
He'd barely sent the message off at all, when apparently it had come time for the next disturbance.  
  
_Ding_, the shop bell cheerfully called out to him again.  
  
"Hello? Mr. Fell?"  
  
Aziraphale's shoulders drooped, and he allowed himself a moment of exasperation before tucking his phone away again and standing up. Lord have mercy, the day was beginning to become exhausting. He needed to close up shop after this, _surely_.   
  
Yes, he would _definitely_ do that, upon reflection. He'd go home as soon as he could and seek the comfort only Crowley could bring him. He held onto Crowley's image and the warmth of his affections waiting for him at home for as long as he could, drawing from it his strength to deal with this one last matter.  
  
But, on his way to the door, after a brief moment of cognition got through, he realized that voice was familiar.  
  
He peeked around the corner and was met by the sight of what was indeed a face that he knew well. "Sergeant... Shadwell?" He couldn't help but notice that the other wasn't wearing his Witchfinder coat anymore... though he _was_ still wearing that rather silly looking hat.  
  
"Aye." The man looked more cowed than Aziraphale had ever seen him, and especially so once they'd actually locked eyes. "So, eh... yeh've opened yer bookshop back up. Business boomin' these days?" He offered an uneasy smile.  
  
Aziraphale mirrored the awkward expression as he approached properly. Something about standing here with Shadwell had already made him extremely nervous. It was probably due in large part to what had happened the last time they stood in this building together. It didn't matter that the circle was gone now, no longer a part of his floor, expunged by Adam. It still managed to haunt him, in this moment.  
  
It brought back an unbidden flash of sterile white halls. Preparation for a war he was never going to be part of. Then, one of a darkened bar, and Crowley drowning his sorrows in a bottle.   
  
He shook them off. "Er... about as much as before, I do suppose. Is there something I can do for you?"  
  
He hadn't ever known Shadwell to read much of anything except the obvious, so something told him he wasn't here for books.  
  
"Mr. Fell, I've... come teh apologize."  
  
The answer surprised him. "Oh? Whatever for?"  
  
Shadwell whipped his hat off and held it between his hands, looking quite sorrowful. "The way I treated yeh, o'course. Callin' yeh a southern pansy, n' such. Weren't right, all a' that."  
  
His first thought was that maybe Tracy had sent him 'round and made him do this. Shadwell had only briefly held _open contempt_ for him, but his treatment had been bad enough during that window of time. The microaggressions he'd sent Aziraphale's way from time to time during their association weren't that nice either, while he was keeping score, but he'd brushed those off as they happened.  
  
When he really thought about it, though, the man at least _sounded_ genuine, here. Not like someone only apologizing because their spouse had told them they should. She probably _had_ encouraged him, certainly, but it seemed to come from his heart.   
  
He'd noticed the gold band on Shadwell's finger straight off, and despite himself, he couldn't help but be happy for them. They'd been doing a bit of a dance around each other, too, from what he'd seen. So... rather than making him leave, he supposed he could hear him out. "Oh, that's alright. It's water under the bridge now, isn't it?"  
  
Shadwell didn't seem too willing to accept it offhand like that, but Aziraphale clearly wasn't going to budge on it, so he let it drop. "Not the only apology I've got teh give yeh. I came in here, guns blazin', accusin' yeh of being a demon, and then yer shop... it burned down."  
  
_That_ caught Aziraphale by surprise, too. He'd been under the impression that the humans who had been directly involved in the process had forgotten that any of it had ever happened. He'd thought it to be a condition of the reset and restoration. It had been an obvious assumption to make, but apparently he'd been wrong. "It did, but we've restored it. Good as new. Tip top. Not a problem."  
  
Shadwell's eyes met his, steadily, for the first time. "The _problem_ is... I think I might've been the one what made it go up in flames."  
  
Aziraphale just blinked at him.  
  
Shadwell grimaced. "Understandin' me now, aren't yeh."  
  
"I... possibly. What makes you think that?"  
  
Shadwell's hat twisted in his hands. "Well, after I saw yeh... go 'poof', I was the only one left here, aye? Made a quick exit, I did. Didn't put out yer candles a'fore I left. I should've done. Weren't here teh do it yerself."  
  
Aziraphale couldn't hold back his snort, and he waved his hand dismissively. "That's hardly your fault, I dare think."  
  
"I slammed the door."  
  
Aziraphale hadn't heard him properly, due to the way his voice had dropped to a whisper when he said it, but his eyebrows raised anyway. "Come again?"  
  
Shadwell was suddenly avoiding his eyes again. "I said... I slammed the door. Behind me, when I left. Was runnin' away. Been thinkin' the shock knocked one a' the candles over, n' it hit sommat."  
  
Aziraphale released a low breath. That was _not_ good. If true, that moved the fire distinctly from 'accident that was no one's fault in particular' or 'may have been vaguely my fault' to 'directly caused by Shadwell'.  
  
They continued to talk for a little while, after that. Shadwell persisted in apologizing profusely for the accident, in between fielding Aziraphale's inquiries into Tracy's well being and what the two of them had been up to in the time since the big event.   
  
Apparently the marriage itself was still _quite_ fresh, but they'd left London together and moved into a little bungalow 'round the way of Oxford, shortly after The Day.  
  
Aziraphale had to admit that it was sort of funny how many things in their lives tended to gravitate over that way.  
  
After assuring the man that all was well, about ten additional times, by his count, Aziraphale finally managed to shoo him out. With him, he sent off regards to give to Tracy, plus an open offer of a tea date that he wasn't certain he actually meant to make good on (for _her_, he would, but he wasn't totally sure about Shadwell himself), and then he finally managed to flip his sign and draw the shades, locking the doors with a heavy hand.  
  
Receiving the rest of the missing bits of the story and learning the whole truth of what had happened didn't make him feel particularly resentful toward Shadwell. It may have been his fault, in the end, and it may have come about because of some ill intent and misunderstandings on his part, but the man still hadn't _tried_ to burn the shop down. 

Shadwell hadn't been the only one who'd been a fool, in that equation, either. Besides, Aziraphale already had and processed all of those feelings by the time he'd gotten his body back. It wasn't _himself_ that he was worried about, when it came to this.  
  
This had created, or, rather, _presented_, a conundrum that he didn't quite know how to handle as of yet.  
  
He felt like he had quite a lot to consider, suddenly. Firstly, how to repel those old women, who would surely be back for another attempt... also, whether or not he should really think about taking that trip to the auctions... but most importantly of all, _when_ and _how_ was he going to tell Crowley about _this?_ And... should he, even? They'd promised to be truthful, no matter how badly it might hurt, and he wanted to keep to his word, certainly, but... would it even lead to any closure, or would it only make things worse, if he learned this? Would it be better to leave him in the dark, this once?  
  
He didn't know, right now. All he _did_ know was that he couldn't wait to get home, today. This day as a whole had worn him down. He was almost certain that Crowley would be missing him at this point, too, but... he thought that in this moment, for once... he might need Crowley more than Crowley needed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the most part this fic is definitely about both of them together as a unit, but when broken down it certainly tips more Crowley-centric for obvious reasons. So that said I really enjoy it when I can write an Aziraphale-centric chapter because I adore what he has become. And I love showing how he loves Crowley <3
> 
> They are so domestic at this point and I'm in love with their love AND THERE'S THE FACTS
> 
> I honestly can't wait til Crowley shows him emojis bc I feel it in my bones that after the initial 'I'm 12 and what is this' reaction he will 100% be an emoji fiend like Michael Sheen is. That's some actor to character bleedover that will highly amuse me so just let me have it if it happens lmfao
> 
> Having to write dialogue for Shadwell and being stupid and wanting to try and transcribe his accent was A Thing as well I have to say 😂


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was a heavy clink of fork against plate as Aziraphale finished his dinner. 
> 
> Crowley had waited around a little bit after the text had come through, but then he'd picked his arse up and took it to the kitchen to get to work. He'd made them Lamb Bhuna, with a recipe and instructions he'd procured from the Indian restaurant Aziraphale liked. It had taken just a touch of guile, shot through the phone network, and the chef was helpfully (and even cheerfully) reciting it for him, as many times as had been needed for him to write it down and double check.

There was a heavy clink of fork against plate as Aziraphale finished his dinner.   
  
Crowley had waited around a little bit after the text had come through, but then he'd picked his arse up and took it to the kitchen to get to work. He'd made them Lamb Bhuna, with a recipe and instructions he'd procured from the Indian restaurant Aziraphale liked. It had taken just a touch of guile, shot through the phone network, and the chef was helpfully (and even cheerfully) reciting it for him, as many times as had been needed for him to write it down and double check.  
  
His portion was much smaller, of course (it was about a 65/35 split, Aziraphale had talked him down a bit from a 75/25) and he'd cleared his plate rather quickly, leaving him with idle hands. Another shot of guile (this one was even smaller, it really hadn't taken much at all), a sly suggestion later, and he'd been blessed with the chance to hold the utensil through most of Aziraphale's plate, too.  
  
Feeding him was a trick he'd likely not dare to perform in public... it was probably just a touch _too_ embarrassing, whether the humans could see him or not. But here, in their perfectly carved out little living space, where it was just the two of them and their love, he was more than glad to have been able to try it. He liked it, and would probably do it again at any given opportunity.  
  
"Oh... that was simply scrumptious, darling. You really are _much_ too good to me, you know. You're definitely going to spoil me, making me two excellent meals in one day. I'm likely to go setting unreasonable expectations." Aziraphale sighed.  
  
Crowley finally relaxed fully out of his 'watching Aziraphale eat' pose (with slight modifications to accommodate feeding him) and scooted his chair over closer to him. "I'd make you fifty meals a day if it'd make you happy."  
  
"Hush, you unrepentant charmer."  
  
Crowley just grinned at him, though, leaning over to hold him gently by the chin and kiss him. He tasted mostly of the chai he'd insisted on preparing once he'd learned what their meal was.   
  
"This reminds me." He said, and in the next instant they were both occupying the same chair. He'd slid over into Crowley's lap, in a motion that seemed too smooth for him to be able to pull off... but nonetheless, he had. His lips were strong on Crowley's before he had time to process any of that, his hands holding the surprised demon's face on either side. He was finally making good on his internal vow to kiss Crowley stupid in response to the carefully crafted lunch he'd received.  
  
The surprised sound had turned into a thin moan by the time the angel broke off from him again. "Holy shit, what's gotten into you? Not that I'm complaining, mind..." He said, as breathlessly as Aziraphale had intended to leave him, clinging to his front.  
  
Aziraphale gave a fond little scratch to his tattoo. "What's gotten into me? You have, of course."  
  
Crowley looked properly mystified. "What'd I do?"  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him. Mission accomplished. "You know _precisely_ what you did, you artful serpent."  
  
It was then that he finally remembered the contents of Aziraphale's message. "Maybe." He grinned, pulling Aziraphale down to him again for another kiss, playfully nipping his bottom lip on their way apart again. "So, you liked it?"  
  
"To say that I _liked_ it isn't a strong enough response, sweetest. Not only was it the most adorable thing on this planet, with the exception of the artisan behind it... the taste of the food was divine, as well."  
  
Crowley had been resisting the urge to preen, but this particular compliment broke him down. It was either that or get embarrassed, and he couldn't do that this time, because he'd _known_ he had done good work.  
  
Aziraphale ran his hand through Crowley's hair for a while, praising him some more in that way, and then sat back from him slightly. "I think I'm going to have a bath, my dear. I need a good soak after the day I've had. Would you like to join me?"  
  
"Yeah." They stood, and after a beat, as they were walking down the hall, he finally asked. "What happened today?"  
  
And so Aziraphale told him. He told him about his harrowing experiences with the old women, the university students, and the pushy parents.  
  
Notably, he did _not_ tell him about Shadwell. But, as time kept marching on, his doubt that he would say anything at all was certainly lessening.  
  
He would tell him... _probably_. But he definitely needed time to figure out how to handle that properly. He couldn't just blurt it out, it would take a delicate hand.  
  
And, as for that last matter...  
  
"Hey, Angel?"  
  
Aziraphale looked up, startled out of his thoughts, and found that they were in the bathroom, in front of a full tub of water, with a layer of bubbles on top. Crowley's doing. "Hm?"  
  
"D'you mind if I play the big spoon this time?"  
  
It took Aziraphale a moment to realize what he meant, but when he did, it was like his entire being went soft. "Of course not, love."  
  
"Mm. Good. Wanna hold you." He said, sliding into the tub to rest his shoulders in the bend of it while he waited for Aziraphale to join him.  
  
It wasn't until he did, settling into the inviting V of Crowley's legs, that Crowley realized they hadn't been in a bath together in this particular configuration since the last time they were in Rome. They'd settled into their roles now, for the most part... Crowley was often the one to be held and Aziraphale the one to do the holding. It did nothing to upset the affection balance, as both of them were constantly taking potshots as far as that went, and such an arrangement suited both of them fine.  
  
But, tonight... Crowley could feel that something wasn't quite right, and if that was true, he was gonna do something about it, one way or another. "Can I wash your hair?" He could start there, he reckoned.  
  
"Oh... that sounds wonderful, dear. Please do."  
  
"Lay back, then, and I will."  
  
Aziraphale did, scooting his body down until his feet were pressed against the other end of the tub, so he could rest his shoulders against Crowley and present his head to him at an easy level to facilitate his hair being washed.  
  
Crowley pulled a small plastic cup out of thin air, dipping it down into a clear spot in the water to fill it. "Gonna start now."  
  
Aziraphale hummed, hooking one of his arms into Crowley's leg at thigh level. "Go ahead." He said, and then Crowley was pouring the water over his head, slowly, saturating his curls methodically and watching them buckle and fall under the pressure of it, matting to his scalp.  
  
He did this twice more before reaching for the bottle of shampoo. There was a click, and then the smell of green apple hit Aziraphale's nose. He couldn't help but smile, giving Crowley's leg a little squeeze of adoration where his arm held it.  
  
Without further interlude, Crowley began to sink his fingers into the hair and down to Aziraphale's scalp, massaging the soap into a lather through the strands in tight circles. It pulled a murmur of appreciation out of his Prinicipality, a low sound of release. A tiny fraction of the tension inside of him had cracked away. Not all of it... not even enough to be a true relief from it, but at least it was _something_.  
  
Crowley continued to move his hands the same way long after every single hair was generously coated in bubbles... the act of cleaning giving way to a more blatant display of affection.  
  
He dug deep, pushing his fingers all the way through the hair again so he could dote on Aziraphale further with some scratches to his scalp. He really liked that when Aziraphale would do it for him, and he imagined the angel would feel the same way about it.  
  
He did, and it was plain to tell. It was quite amusing and sort of eye opening to be on the other end of a head pressing firmly up against his fingers and a steady stream of pleased murmurs.  
  
After a while, once the other's reaction had begun to abate, he finally reclaimed the cup to start rinsing the soap from Aziraphale's hair. He dipped it into the water, filling it up once more, and used his other hand to shield Aziraphale's eyes. He thought it a shame that he didn't have access to the spray head that Aziraphale had used on him, because that had felt damn amazing on his scalp, but there was something sort of charming about doing it this way. He thought so, and he could tell Aziraphale did too, if that warmth radiating out from him was any indication.  
  
The cup vanished again, once he was done, and after he placed the shampoo bottle back in its proper place, Crowley let his arms drift down to hold Aziraphale, finally, as he'd said he would do.  
  
An occasional drip of water from the tap, hitting the surface of the pool they sat in, was the only sound in the room for a long while.  
  
Crowley had to get to the bottom of this silence, or it was going to bother him to death. "What's wrong, Angel?"  
  
The sudden question startled Aziraphale. "Mm? Oh. I wouldn't say that anything's _wrong_, precisely."   
  
Crowley frowned. "You told me you had a bad day, but you're not usually this quiet when that happens."  
  
Quite the opposite, in fact. Aziraphale could be an extremely impressive complainer, and normally he'd still be griping about one thing or another. Not that Crowley minded, of course. He'd listen to those troubles any time.  
  
This time he wasn't getting much of them, though, and it was weird.  
  
Aziraphale propped himself up and returned to more of a sitting position. "I suppose that's true. I've been quite lost in thought, I'm afraid." He sighed. "I just... I need to ask you about something, my dear, and I've been waffling over a good way to bring it up. I've been trying to figure it out this whole time." His daily ventures to the bookshop were one thing, but a full consecutive work week away from Crowley felt like something else entirely. He didn't know if it would upset the other, the idea of being apart that long. "It's a bit delicate."  
  
"What?"  
  
Aziraphale pursed his lips in consideration, and his fingertips skirted over the length of Crowley's forearm where it rested against him. He'd intended to delay a while until he figured out a better way to do it, but he supposed he could risk asking now. He had already drawn Crowley's interest, so... at this point, he probably wasn't going to get away with avoiding it. If it provoked a negative reaction, he'd be at the ready. He was sure he could fix it somehow, so... "Do you think... you'd be alright by yourself for a few days?"  
  
Clearly, it caught Crowley off guard. Whatever he might've been expecting, it wasn't that. He'd stiffened out of reflex, and that had caused Aziraphale to instinctively double his attentions. The comfort softened him again fairly quickly. "Uh... well, I mean... I guess. Stuff's going well right now, yeah? 'Sides, I was by myself for about, I dunno, sixty centuries before you moved in with me here, so I think I'd manage. Why, though?"  
  
"It's definitely not that I doubt your capability, love. It's that... well, let us just say that I understand the urge to stay close together, on a very visceral level." It wasn't that he was afraid of what might happen in his absence, not really. Not anymore. Crowley could take care of himself, and he was in good condition at the moment. This wasn't him babying the demon again. He'd done his best to kick that habit, after the incident where he'd been made aware of it, and he'd been rather successful at it, if he had his say.  
  
It was just... they'd been forced to stay apart for so long that the notion of being away from each other now, even for just a few days, was a difficult one to be _completely_ on board with. It was a feeling borne of the desire to make the most of every moment, now that they had freedom, plus separation anxiety multiplied by a factor of at least 100. Aziraphale looked at him over his shoulder. "I had another visitor today, and through that interaction, I've... been offered an opportunity for a business related trip that would take me out to Leeds."  
  
Crowley's brow quirked, in its way. "For how long?"  
  
"Monday through Friday, I'm told." Crowley made a face at that, and it pressed him to continue. "If you'd like to come, I--"  
  
Crowley pressed a kiss into the back of his shoulder, then rested his chin on the ridge. "Mm. Nah. I'll be fine here. If it's book stuff, I'd probably be bored outta my damn mind. 'N Leeds isn't my scene. _At all_."  
  
His reaction was quite anticlimactic, but in this case that was actually a good thing. It made Aziraphale instantly feel a bit silly for having been so worked up over it, but he hadn't known what would happen. He hadn't wanted to throw Crowley back into chaos when he'd been doing so well, especially over something so innocuous.  
  
He thought he'd never again be so glad to be wrong.  
  
The relief he felt made him laugh even more easily at Crowley's words. "Well, I appreciate your honesty, at the very least, love. I'll miss you, certainly, but I wouldn't want you to go just to be miserable the entire time." To be honest, that had been precisely why he hadn't simply made the assumption that Crowley would go with him, and had planned on this result from the beginning.  
  
"Yeah, so. I'll stay here n' hold down the fort while you go do your book-y shite." Crowley reached down, pulling Aziraphale's hand up so he could press kisses against his knuckles. "When d'you leave?"  
  
Aziraphale flushed at the fondness being pushed into him. "In a couple of months. I don't have an exact date, as it hadn't been specified yet."  
  
Crowley snorted. "It's that far away?"  
  
"Well, I wanted to clear it with you first, before I accepted the invitation. Your wellness is _much_ more important to me than any books." This would be a simple shopping trip for him, after all. 'Business related' in his case only meant 'expanding my collection'.  
  
"Y'know, I think coming from anybody else, that'd sound daft as all Hell, but when it's you, it's dumb romantic." Crowley laughed, letting his hand go and scooting up closer so he could lean over Aziraphale properly and kiss his cheek. "'M gonna miss you, but I'll be okay. I'd never wanna keep you from doing something you'd like to do. Just... one thing."  
  
"Yes?" Aziraphale's face said it all. He would do anything Crowley asked.  
  
"You've gotta call me every night. Dunno if I'll be able to sleep without hearing your voice, anymore. You've spoiled me, y'know? And... text me whenever you can, tell me about what you're getting up to. Even if it's boring, I'll read it. 'N I'll reply."  
  
Aziraphale beamed at him. "Done, and done."  
  
"Good. It's settled, so _relax already_, dammit." He huffed, then leaned back to appraise Aziraphale. "Or... d'you need some help with that?"  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"I've got some... methods on offer, if you want 'em."  
  
"Oh, _do you_, now."  
  
Crowley smiled, pressing a kiss into the nape of Aziraphale's neck and letting the damp hair tickle his nose as he enjoyed the mix of his natural scent and the apple shampoo. "Yeah." He let his hand slide down over Aziraphale's torso, pleased when he could feel his muscles tense at his touch, underneath all that softness. "One of 'em... it's something we haven't tried."  
  
Aziraphale reached for Crowley's thigh, wedging his fingers between it and the tub to stroke its sensitive underside. "You may as well just tell me, you wily thing. You _know_ you've already got me wrapped up in your coil. No need to entice me further."  
  
Crowley laughed. "I'll do you one better, 'n I'll _show_ you, if you turn around."  
  
Interest well and truly piqued, Aziraphale did just that. He gently extracted himself from Crowley, twisted around, and sat at the other end of the tub.  
  
Crowley took in the sight of him for just a moment, and then moved. He settled himself in Aziraphale's lap, kneeling there with his legs bracketing the angel's.   
  
He didn't quite know what Crowley had planned, and curiosity grabbed him. "Is this... something you've done before?"  
  
Crowley's eyes went soft. "Mm-mm."   
  
The blonde recognized this look right off. It was the very same look Crowley had taken on when he'd been questioning him about the little things he'd done for him after the first time they'd had sex.  
  
So, the only thing he could figure was that probably meant that this was going to be... something sort of like that? Something he only ever would've done with Aziraphale.  
  
Aziraphale kissed him, unable to come up with a more sophisticated response. Of course, he'd known... Crowley had told him in that moment that he hadn't done anything sensual or purposely intimate before he'd been with him. His previous endeavors had all been 'from point A to point B', as he'd put it. He just had this air about him that made him seem so much more experienced sometimes, even when he wasn't, and occasionally it managed to trick the angel's mind and make him forget himself. "Where did you... learn about it?"  
  
"Spent a lot more time in the bathhouses people watching than you did, 's all." Crowley grinned. "Wasn't really concerned 'bout preserving everyone's modesty like you were. They didn't notice me, anyway."  
  
"You've been holding onto this since way back then?" He still didn't know what 'this' was, just yet, but a little jolt hit his heart at the thought of that.  
  
"Those blokes seemed to enjoy it a lot, so... I always kinda thought I might like to try it with you if I could. 'Course, you'll know how that would've gone up til recently."  
  
Aziraphale didn't have to say, but he certainly _did_ know. He'd spent a decent amount of time in a war of attrition against that very thing, after all.  
  
"Didn't mention it before, 'cause it never seemed the time. Always something I wanted more, y'know? But now... I think _this_ is definitely the time." Crowley pressed the very gentlest of kisses to his lips, and he thought he might melt. "You need to relax after your day, 'n this is how I'm gonna help you do that. So... just stay there, and let me make you feel good. Deal?"  
  
Aziraphale smiled at him. "Deal."  
  
Crowley shifted, placing one hand on Aziraphale's shoulder for balance, while the other one wandered down further to slip between his angel's half hard cock and his belly. His palm curled inward slightly, holding him in place somewhat, but not completely.  
  
Aziraphale's confusion on the matter melted away when his demon pressed his hips forward experimentally, purposely but gently rutting against him.  
  
_Oh.  
_  
He didn't actually know if he'd _said_ it or_ thought_ it, but either way, something must have communicated the point to Crowley, because he repeated the process again. And again. By the fourth stroke, moving into the fifth one, it had Aziraphale biting his lip a little.  
  
It didn't take him long at all to progress to a full erection, once Crowley settled into his rhythm.  
  
In some way that he couldn't quite identify, something about this made it feel just as much, if not _more_ intimate than the penetrative act they normally got up to.  
  
He could feel the heat of Crowley pressed up against him, even through the warmth of the water, and it damn near made him swoon.  
  
It was bringing him immense enjoyment, and he would have to find some way of his own to thank Crowley for introducing him to the concept of... whatever this was. He had already pretty much decided he was going to utilize this again, he liked it that much.  
  
That meant that he was quite put out when Crowley stopped moving again. He was placated by his lover's lips pressing against his, but only a little bit.  
  
Aziraphale had been about to check in with him when he started talking on his own. "Mm... y'know, if you'd rather, uh... have me, now that you're properly worked up, that's okay too. Just wanna make you feel good. Don't care how. Just let me know, yeah?"  
  
"Anthony J. Crowley, if you so much as _attempt_ to stop doing this for any reason short of preserving your comfort, I shall be extremely cross."  
  
He loved how it felt when Crowley's laughter washed over him. "Message received, Angel."  
  
With that, he began to move again, and they settled back into the motions.  
  
Aziraphale could see where this had a potential to get sort of hectic, but it seemed that nearly every act of this nature had its own sliding scale of urgency. Crowley seemed quite content to sit at the low end of that scale, with this, and that pleased the angel. To him, desperation definitely had its merit, but he did have to say that if he was forced to choose, he favored taking things slow. That was obviously shown in the way that he opted to conduct himself in bed with Crowley, most of the time.  
  
And indeed, Crowley kept the pace slow and deliberate, much like Aziraphale's preferred method of making love, but the slick from the water and the bubble bath was still doing wonders to help him along, as it turned out.  
  
The two of them were pitching headfirst into the new sensation, riding the wave up to its crest only to tumble back down to the bottom and repeat the process over again, the steps coinciding perfectly with those rolls of hips.  
  
The heat that had already built between them was almost unbelievable when considering how gentle and soft the act was that was producing it. This was definitely more of a simmer, as compared to the full on rolling boil of most of the other things they'd done so far, but Aziraphale _liked_ it.  
  
Just one more way he found that the Greeks had definitely known what they were doing.   
  
Crowley dipped his head, offering his Principality his lips, which he eagerly took. Aziraphale deepened the kiss in relatively short order, licking his way into Crowley's mouth with a ragged sigh. His hands settled on Crowley's hips as he caressed the demon's tongue fondly with his own, and he couldn't help but speed up, _just a little_. Not too much, not so far that he outstripped Aziraphale's usual max speed, but it was still enough to escalate things slightly.  
  
Crowley's hand curled inward more, and he took a more solid grip over the both of them, squeezing the lengths together even more and delighting in Aziraphale's every reaction to what he was doing. Aziraphale's thickness probably would've presented a stumbling block to this step of it, if not for the fact that the demon's fingers were stupidly long and seemingly made for this _exact_ task.  
  
Or... piano playing fingers, he'd heard them called by humans. Perhaps he'd try that someday, too. Maybe Aziraphale would like it. He had an overwhelming fondness for classical, after all.  
  
But, for now... he had other things to play, and he was _sure_ Aziraphale would like _that_.  
  
Crowley moved his thumb in a slow figure 8 stroke over both heads, and Aziraphale couldn't hold back his gasp even if he'd wanted to. "Please, love... do that again." He managed, his hands tightening against Crowley's hips.  
  
"Don't you worry, Angel. I will." He replied, moving to do just that. Anything he wanted, anything he needed, Crowley would provide.  
  
He kept doing it, and the stimulation soon had the blonde squirming, the tub making a little squeaking noise under him. It was good. Almost _too_ good. There was a delicious tension starting to rise up between his hips, and the feel of it brought him back to the thought of this being a simmer, not a boil. It was still heading that direction, even now.  
  
"Y'can... move." Crowley encouraged, suddenly. "Try it. Do the opposite of what I do."  
  
Aziraphale did, waiting until Crowley's next downstroke to thrust his hips upwards, pulling down again as he moved up. The addition of that on top of everything else made him see stars, and it was all he could do to concentrate enough to keep moving.  
  
He felt a strong, hot throb go through Crowley's cock, pressed so tightly against his own, and that was what finally did it. The feel of that... the knowledge that his love was also hopelessly turned on by this was what broke his thread.  
  
It took him so suddenly that he didn't have any opportunity to say anything, and then he was gasping again, more urgently than before, and spilling out into the bath while he held Crowley as close as he could manage in that position. _"Crowley_."  
  
The way his name sounded falling out of his angel's mouth lit him up, and Crowley pressed in more firmly, sliding over him faster after that as he hurried to his own finish. Thankfully, he was able to reach completion shortly thereafter so he could still go along with his plan to let Aziraphale feel him come up against him, before there was risk of him being oversensitive and not able to fully enjoy it. He'd just barely made it, but he could tell the angel had _definitely_ enjoyed that last little extra bit of it, because he'd managed to wring another breathy moan out of him.  
  
He was admittedly a bit put out at the 'waste', on Aziraphale's end, but he couldn't stay like that for long, seeing how thoroughly this particular orgasm had melted Aziraphale. It reminded him a bit of the first two he'd ever given him.  
  
For Aziraphale's part, he was so thoroughly satisfied that he barely noticed it when the energy rushed around him as Crowley miracled the water clean again.  
  
When he came back around to his senses and opened his eyes, he found Crowley looking down at him, unbearably tenderly. "Y'know, I was gonna ask you if that was good... but don't think I need to. Your face is saying it all." He laughed, leaning in to bop the tip of his nose against Aziraphale's in an affectionate touch.  
  
"It wasn't good. It was _excellent_, my dear." There was a twinkle in his eyes as he met Crowley's. "We shall definitely be doing that again, if I have my say."  
  
"Ngk." Crowley dropped his head and hid his face in the side of Aziraphale's neck. "Liked it that much, did you?"  
  
"Indubitably."  
  
Crowley snorted at him. "Sounds dangerously close to some _other_ word you like a lot."  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "That, too."  
  
"Well, _that_ aside, d'you... feel better now?"  
  
"Most assuredly." Aziraphale gave him a warm squeeze. It was true... all of the rest of the tension from his day had quite hastily exited his body along with his release. "You know just how to cure me when I'm in a fit, don't you?"  
  
It pulled a self satisfied little smile from Crowley, which Aziraphale felt against his skin. "I've got an idea by now, yeah." He said, pressing a couple of tiny kisses where he rested. Overwhelm with affection -- it was a favored tactic of both of them, for its effectiveness. "Speaking of... when we get out, go get in bed and wait for me, will you?"  
  
"Oh?" Aziraphale looked at the back of his head expectantly.  
  
Crowley could feel the gaze, and it made him stir. "Mm-hmm. I've got _plans_ for you." He raised up just enough to look at Aziraphale with one eye. _"Diabolical_ plans involving tea, chocolate, and copious amounts of cuddling."  
  
"How positively _depraved_. Attempting to thwart them would be a wasted effort, I'm sure. I think I can do nothing but surrender in the face of your overwhelmingly wicked ways." Aziraphale laughed again, pressing his hand flat against Crowley's back. "That sounds lovely, darling." It really did, after the day he'd had. He'd known he could count on Crowley to pick up on that and move to make it better. He smiled to himself as he thought on it.  
  
Crowley sat up the rest of the way, sliding his arms around the back of his angel's neck. "Maybe even a _massage_, too, if you're lucky!" He gave Aziraphale a conspiratorial look, pressing their foreheads together. "And if you're extra, _extra_ lucky... you might get a happy ending outta that."  
  
Aziraphale diverted his hand and playfully pinched Crowley in the side for his cheek, making him break down to wriggle and laugh in his lap, though he found that he might be rather fond of that idea, after all. All in good time, of course. He would take his time to enjoy some other delights before circling back around to that one.  
  
A few more moments of soaking later, the tub was drained and they separated, going in opposite directions down the hall.  
  
But... if Aziraphale deviated slightly from the plan and wandered back out to the kitchen while the tea was still brewing, ending up with his arms looped around Crowley's waist and holding him so tenderly that it introduced a new level of challenge to completing his intended tasks... well, no one could blame him for that.  
  
Crowley certainly wouldn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By now you guys will have noticed I'm quite fond of my timeskips, and I'm definitely not giving those up. Probably couldn't if I tried. But I'm _also_ very thoroughly enjoying doing these direct continuation chapters, so we might see them pop up more often from now on :P
> 
> An angel gets the attention he needs after his challenging day and Crowley gets to step up and do something extra meaningful for him. They're both happy af!
> 
> Once again, I am in love with their love and that's the facts!
> 
> The story has definitely meandered far off the path I originally outlined for it. It was much more to the point in all of its initial forms. I've become much more invested than I could've ever imagined being, and I'm gonna keep writing this for as long as I reasonably can. I'm not going to add _stupid_ filler, but I'm gonna flesh it out as much as possible. Eventually we'll reach an end but that won't be for a while if I get my way. I can only _imagine_ what the word count of this beast will be when it's actually done, with me and my regular 10-12k porn chapters 😂


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As it was the weekend, that meant that Aziraphale was home for a couple of days. He'd adjusted his schedule (originally the change was only meant to be in effect for the time between then and his trip out of town, but he was beginning to think he might keep it that way) to exclude weekends, that way he had those days completely free for Crowley.
> 
> On this particular day, he was finally getting to do something he'd been meaning to do for a little while now; get back around to a bit of the demon's exposure therapy. "One more time, before I do this: Are you _sure?"_ He asked. They were sitting in chairs in the office, at opposite sides of the small table they'd fallen into a habit of using when they ate Crowley's home cooked dinners together. Aziraphale held a matchbox in one of his hands.

As it was the weekend, that meant that Aziraphale was home for a couple of days. He'd adjusted his schedule (originally the change was only meant to be in effect for the time between then and his trip out of town, but he was beginning to think he might keep it that way) to exclude weekends, that way he had those days completely free for Crowley.  
  
On this particular day, he was finally getting to do something he'd been meaning to do for a little while now; get back around to a bit of the demon's exposure therapy. "One more time, before I do this: Are you _sure?"_ He asked. They were sitting in chairs in the office, at opposite sides of the small table they'd fallen into a habit of using when they ate Crowley's home cooked dinners together. Aziraphale held a matchbox in one of his hands.  
  
Crowley's expression was steely and determined. "Yeah."  
  
"Alright, then." Aziraphale said, placing the matchbox on the table and turning it so the striking surface was facing up. "Remember... I'm going to be right here. There will be at least one point of contact between us, somewhere, at all times. And if you need out...?" The cadence of his voice went up slightly at the end, and he looked at Crowley expectantly, waiting for him to finish the thought.  
  
"I'll stop it. I'll tell you."  
  
"Very good." Aziraphale nodded, sliding the box open with his thumb to carefully withdraw one match before closing it again. "Right. Would you like to light it? Will it bother you if I do it?" It was a question worth asking, he thought. Having control over it could possibly help.  
  
"I..." Crowley considered it a moment, but ultimately couldn't see an advantage one way or the other. "I dunno. I think... it probably ought to be you that does it." Truthfully, he was just a bit afraid he might freak out and drop it if he was the one to do it. Granted, the fallout from that would be fairly easily dealt with, but still. No need to senselessly poke the bear.  
  
"That's what we'll do, then. I'll light it." Aziraphale regarded him, his blue eyes meeting Crowley's amber ones. "Do you think you can handle watching it spark up, or do you need me to divert your attention?"  
  
Again, he had to take a moment to think it over. Watching the flame spark and light probably had a good chance of freaking him out, it was true... but he also couldn't help but think that maybe the full process was something he needed to see in order to try to help himself reconnect with the fact that the presence of a flame didn't _always_ mean mass destruction would follow.  
  
There were things like that; things that he knew, while he had a rational head on his shoulders... that he needed help forcing to stick around when that rational head went out for a stroll without his consent. Recapturing that ability was the major goal of these exercises.  
  
"I'll watch." Crowley murmured, looking up when Aziraphale placed his hand on top of his.  
  
"You don't _have to_, dear. Don't feel pressured, we can take this as slowly as you need. We have time."  
  
They had nothing but time, actually.   
  
It would, in theory, be fine if this took a hundred years, a thousand years, or another _six_ thousand. Crowley's patience surely wouldn't hold out that long, but all of the other factors involved would be totally unbothered by that.  
  
"I know, but... 's okay. Just... be ready to bail me out, in case."  
  
Aziraphale briefly lifted his hand and leaned in enough that he could brush his thumb over Crowley's cheek in that familiar gesture of affection. "I'm always at your back, my love."  
  
Crowley couldn't help but feel warm inside, and not just from the tender touch that he loved so much. He knew he wasn't alone now, and he was sure enough of that fact on his own, but this still happened to him when Aziraphale would say it.  
  
He took a deep breath, and then exhaled, and that steely expression was back on his face. "Do it."  
  
"I'm going to, right now." Aziraphale replied, sitting back in his seat again and placing the head of the match against the very edge of the textured surface. He paused only briefly before beginning to apply pressure, moving in a quick and sharp motion to drag the sulfide treated bulb against the box and generate enough friction for the flame to arise.   
  
The match struck, sparking up easily with a trio of sounds; a scrape, a pop, and a sizzle. At the end of all of that, the thin stick was lit with a minuscule flame at the very tip of it.   
  
Unable to concentrate on the task while also keeping an eye on Crowley, he'd had to favor lighting the match, but Aziraphale chanced a glance over to him at the soonest possible second. His jaw was hard set, and his free fist clenched tightly against the surface of the table, but other than that, he appeared no worse for wear. "Are you well, dear?" He asked, turning his hand to hook his thumb into Crowley's, squeezing the digits together in attempt to ground him.  
  
"Working on it." Was the somewhat strained response, and then Aziraphale was suddenly clued in on that familiar four count. Crowley had tried to choke when the flame rose to life, but caught and righted himself before he could.  
  
It had perhaps been _a bit_ too violent of a method of making fire for him to remain _completely_ calm, but he only had slight jitters after the initial strike had come and gone. The box breathing had brought him down from worse, and, indeed, it made relatively short work of taking him back to balance.  
  
"I'm... I'm good." He said, after a while, with a sigh. It was always sort of harrowing, and he hated not knowing how it would turn out, but he was encouraged by the fact that he'd managed to rein himself in this time.  
  
"Would you... like to try holding it, perhaps?" Aziraphale said, moving his hand carefully to turn the stick toward Crowley, offering it to him. "Just for a moment. Only if you want to, of course. If you think it's too much, you can always say, dear."  
  
This was the only part of the process that consistently bothered him. He had to constantly press at Crowley's boundaries, when they were doing this, to encourage them to push out, or to establish where they'd pushed out _to_. He was confident in his ability to pacify Crowley at this point, should things go awry, but he still found that he'd much rather avoid that altogether, and it was very hard to navigate that razor thin line sometimes.  
  
Crowley shook his head and swallowed, pulling his clenched fist up from the table and reaching across to take hold of the very end of the stick, dipping his hand under Aziraphale's. Their thumbs brushed as he did, and for some reason that little touch of skin enhanced the calm he was already receiving from the angel's other hand on top of his.  
  
He pulled the match back slightly, instinctively, away from Aziraphale, and looked at it.  
  
He felt the tiniest prickle of that nasty pressure at the back of his head, when observing the flame itself, but the rapid escalation that he might've learned to expect didn't come.  
  
Somewhere in there, he was still aware that this was a small, highly controlled flame, at the end of a match stick. This was not an entire building on fire. This was not _Aziraphale_ on fire.  
  
"Look at me, Crowley."  
  
It took him a moment to comply, transfixed by the dance of the tiny fire against the bulb at the end of the stick, and the delay was almost long enough to cause Aziraphale to think he needed to repeat himself, but then those serpentine eyes finally flicked over, adjusting their focus past the little lick of flame and onto Aziraphale's face instead.  
  
He hadn't turned to ash or gone up in smoke. He hadn't disappeared. There wasn't so much as a scratch on him, and he was right there, sitting in front of him.  
  
The instant their eyes met, Aziraphale smiled. "That's it. Good, love. You're doing so well." He said, as his fingers gently stroked the back of his demon's hand.  
  
Crowley reckoned that other people would probably grow weary of being praised this way, given that there were really only so many combinations of words to be used, even if you were an angel with a near insatiable appetite for reading, and by extension had developed a vocabulary of certain distinction (and that was just when it came to English; he'd heard Aziraphale order food before in what [at least to his untrained ear] sounded like fairly flawless Japanese). But what _other people_ would do didn't matter. He'd never lose his fondness for this, he was certain.  
  
He'd lived for about sixty centuries secretly longing for Aziraphale to say these gentle things to him, after all. Every instance sort of just felt like back pay, even when it was given in the current circumstances.  
  
"Here, love. I'll take it back, now." He heard Aziraphale say, after a moment, and extended his arm to give the match back over, moving it to his waiting hand. He watched as the angel took it, and then adjusted his grip to hold it where Crowley had been holding it. Apparently, about a quarter of it had burned in that time.  
  
Aziraphale had figured out how to handle all of this better, since the first time they'd tried it. He'd made some little missteps then that he had since learned from. Now he knew to keep Crowley's attention split, by actively engaging him in conversation, or asking him to perform little tasks. It had taken some fighting... against himself, that is, because he'd initially felt like he was a distraction in the bad way, but he came around to the idea that Crowley responded much better this way than he did when left completely to his own devices. He had a tendency to hyperfocus on precisely the wrong thing and overthink if his mind was left to race by itself.  
  
"I was thinking, that perhaps, next time... we might try this with a candle, at dinner."  
  
Crowley looked at him curiously, but said nothing, so he continued. "My reasoning was that... we could do that here, at home, to establish it, and then that would be the first step in trying something like this outside of these walls. Lots of the restaurants we've been to in the past have a candle on the table, after all, and it's only a slight lateral move from the match, I think. It would be a rather natural path of progression. An easy way to get more time in, as well."  
  
Crowley couldn't disagree with that. He wasn't too sure about the idea of doing this outside of his safe space yet, but he knew eventually he would have to go out on that limb. Eventually he would stall out, only doing it in the hyper controlled environment of their flat, and stop making progress. He supposed that as long as Aziraphale was with him, it would turn out okay. It always did.

Something occurred to him, though, when he ran back over Aziraphale's words. "Wait... they do?"

"Do?" Aziraphale looked at him in confusion.

"They have candles on the table?"

"Ah. Yes... but I always make sure they're not lit, or gone altogether."

Crowley stared at him. "With... miracles?"

"Yes."

Aziraphale was always so considerate of him, but the fact that it ran that deep, that he even thought of things like that... it sent Crowley's heart racing, and made him want to vault across the table and into his lap.

He didn't, but he _really_ wanted to.  
  
After that, the only indication of the passage of time was the fact that the match was steadily burning away, the flame licking along the bare stick and gradually adding more length to the charred end. It registered in Crowley's head that he really _must_ have made some sort of progress, somewhere, because he had lasted _significantly_ longer against the trial this time than he had the first one. They'd both learned many things since then, and they'd done a lot of talking, he supposed.  
  
He finally reached his breaking point when the match had burned about halfway down. It was a fairly quick burning match, so it had only taken a few minutes to get to that point, but this was still much farther than he'd gotten with the space heater.   
  
Tiny and insignificant as that flame was, it was still becoming just that little bit too much as it grew in size, and -- perhaps more importantly -- it was getting too close to Aziraphale's hand. Once that thought took root, he only had a certain window of opportunity to spring into action before it truly spread tendrils of fear through him. "Put it out." was all he actually said aloud, when he found his words, but the full meaning was easily conveyed, in the breathlessness of his voice. '_You've got to put it out **now**, before I start to panic, because it's coming. I feel it coming._'  
  
With a deft flick of the angel's wrist, the flame extinguished, and he quickly acted to drop the spent stick into the empty metal bin by his feet before standing up to move to Crowley, drawing him up from the chair and into his arms without delay. He readily wound his own arms around the back of Aziraphale's neck, pulling him in close and burying his face into his shoulder.   
  
"I'm here, love. Right here." Aziraphale soothed, moving his hands to support Crowley under his thighs, where his legs had come up to wrap around his waist. This was an ancient instinct of his, floating to the surface. He was coiling around him, for protection, as best he could in human form. He didn't get much of a chance to display this behavior, consciously or not, since when Aziraphale took him up in his arms he normally held him in more of a bridal style arrangement.  
  
The display (and idle thoughts of that cute boxed lunch Crowley had made him, mimicking this very thing with the symbolism) made Aziraphale smile, and he gave a fond squeeze of his own as he pressed grounding kisses over every patch of Crowley that he could reach. "Crowley, I'm so _proud_ of you." It felt like truer words would never be spoken. He was _infinitely_ proud of him in this moment; for agreeing to this and enduring it in the first place, _and_ for his success in recognizing the signs and being able to call it _before_ he had a reaction. Aziraphale knew he had to let him know, not only because it was greatly beneficial to reinforce how well he'd done, but also because he simply _deserved_ to know.   
  
Aziraphale carried him the short distance from the office to the front room, rearranging him as necessary so he could sit down on the sofa with Crowley still held to him, being extra careful to pull his legs out at the last moment to make sure he wouldn't accidentally pin them.  
  
He settled himself with his back against the arm of the sofa, bearing most of his weight on his shoulders, and stretched one leg out along the furniture's length, then adjusted Crowley again to lay his head on his chest instead of his shoulder, wrapping his arms around him securely. As somewhat of an afterthought, he brought his other leg up to lay it against the cushions and bracket Crowley between his legs, ending up surrounding him completely with his embrace. It was a bit of an awkward position, with Crowley still clinging the way he was, but his Fall given flexibility made many of these exact situations comfortable when they definitely wouldn't be for a genuine human. If there was any tension left in Crowley at all before, it definitely left the instant Aziraphale's leg slid into position and made that '4' shape around him.  
  
After a while Crowley stirred, and he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Aziraphale's shoulder before stubbornly wiggling back up to his previous position to hook his chin over the ridge of it, giving a satisfied hum. Aziraphale squeezed him adoringly for his trouble, and it inspired him to turn and press his face into the angel's neck, where he stayed a while, pulling in deep breaths that were only full of him. He'd gotten Aziraphale to specifically stop wearing his cologne in certain situations now, such as the weekends when he was home with him, because he just couldn't get enough of his angel's natural scent, and wanted to be able to take it in at his leisure.  
  
"Have you any ideas on what you'd like to do to cool down this time, beloved?" His go-to options were baths and massages, but he wanted to keep things varied and always open for Crowley's input. In this particular case, he also hadn't been sure about it because Crowley had used both of those on him very recently.  
  
"Mmf. Not really." Crowley mumbled, nuzzling down into him. "I'll think about it."  
  
"I'll just hold you for now, shall I?"  
  
"Please."  
  
Aziraphale nodded, summoning a blanket to cover him with. Even if Crowley didn't come up with anything else in the end, a good cuddle was always nice.  
  
They stayed there in the quiet, pressed tightly together, each content to simply bask in the warm presence of the other. Occasionally Crowley would raise his head, seeking a kiss, and it would always, without fail, be granted. A soft touch of lips here and there, with intent in both directions that was pure as the driven snow; not meant to rile, but only to cherish.   
  
Moments like these were fairly common between them now, but they still never got stale. They'd missed too many opportunities for them over the years, being forced into the roles they were. They could cuddle like this from now until the end of time, and it still wouldn't be enough to make up the difference.  
  
It was something else Crowley would surely never lose his fondness for.  
  
After some time, Aziraphale spoke up to him. "Is this to be it, then?"  
  
"Yeah, think so. 'M too lazy to move. Feels nice right here." Crowley wiggled, pressing his face even deeper into Aziraphale, especially pleased by the feel of the light rumble of his lover's voice from where he was, and eager to get more. "You're soft and warm and I like laying on you. Sue me. I've got infinite money, so you're never gonna win."  
  
Aziraphale chuckled at him, both for what he was saying and how it sounded with his voice muffled like that. "That's fine enough, love. The second step shall always be left to your discretion, after all. I'm content to stay here with you all day, if you'd like."  
  
"Well, _that_ might be overdoing it." Crowley laughed, unburying himself again so he could look up at Aziraphale properly. "But... thanks, though. For having that idea about the match, and... well, everything, really. Feels like I did something good today, 'n not just 'cause I'm getting spoiled now. And..."  
  
Aziraphale was distracted away from saying he didn't need to be thanked, by curiosity over what came next. "And...?"  
  
"Nothing much. Y'know, I just... I really like how it feels when you tell me you're proud of me." Crowley said, turning his head to kiss at Aziraphale's collarbone. "I'm gonna do everything I can to make sure you have reasons to keep saying it."  
  
Aziraphale honestly couldn't stop beaming at Crowley, holding the bundle of demon that was currently in his lap closer as he slowly rubbed over his back, stroking his hair with the other hand. Crowley had a small but remarkable victory today, and the angel really couldn't have been happier for him.  
  
Progress was coming, slow but sure. There was still a rather large scale war to be fought against this, but they had won this particular battle, and it was very difficult not to be energized by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't actually have much to say this time except I'm very pleased because this is one of my favorite kinds of chapters to write, the kind where I get to demonstrate some sort of progression for Crowley and then they're s o f t together afterwards  
Gets me every time
> 
> Come bother me on [tumblr](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/). Please. I'm lonely 😂


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time felt like it had flown by, in general, since the Apocalypse That Was Not Meant To Be, but the last few weeks had felt especially short.
> 
> It was finally the day. Aziraphale was leaving for Leeds.

Time felt like it had flown by, in general, since the Apocalypse That Was Not Meant To Be, but the last few weeks had felt especially short.  
  
It was finally the day. Aziraphale was leaving for Leeds.  
  
He'd had the choice of leaving the night before, so he'd already be there and ready to go, or leaving Hellishly early in the morning, day of. Both fortunately _and_ unfortunately for Crowley, he'd chosen the latter.  
  
He'd done so mostly because he didn't want to leave for any longer than he had to. The usual benefit of arriving somewhere a day early hadn't mattered in his case, because he didn't sleep. Thus, he hadn't seen the need to travel up the night prior. His train was due to depart at 5 minutes til 6 in the morning, so Crowley had stayed awake with him, not wanting to waste the last few hours available to them before he wouldn't see him for almost a week.  
  
Crowley was not a morning person, in general, and even less so when he stayed up all night. He really had become quite like a human in that regard.  
  
Aziraphale had taken pity on him and made him some strong coffee, which he'd sat in the kitchen and drank while the angel double checked his luggage. Aziraphale wasn't very good at coffee, with tea being his forte, but he was getting better. At the very least, he got a ton of points for trying.  
  
After dragging his bag out to the front room, he decided out of nowhere that he would like to get clean, the way some humans would before their work day. He'd opted to take a shower rather than a bath, to save time... but that plan didn't take into account Crowley joining him. Allowing that had been a colossally bad idea as far as preserving the expedience of that method of bathing.   
  
But he had asked so sweetly, and Aziraphale wasn't one to deny his demon much of anything. He'd barely gotten out the words before Aziraphale was beckoning him into the shower.  
  
Perfectly innocent washing had soon turned to not quite so innocent touching, to fevered kissing, and ultimately that led to the event of the moment just prior; Crowley dropping to his knees right there under the spray.  
  
That was how Aziraphale had ended up in his current situation, with his body pressed heavily to the shower wall. Crowley had eased him back to that position, and he was holding him still with hands on his thick hips, pressing fond kisses over the whole surface of both of his thighs. He pulled back after a while, giving a couple of slow, purposeful flicks of his tongue to the whole length of him in promise. Then, without warning, he dove in, swallowing it all in one motion. He was already worked up, from all that, so there was no need to spend any more time teasing him this time.  
  
Suddenly, all Aziraphale could feel was that soft, warm, wet mouth on his cock. He was vaguely aware that the shower was still going, and he could see the droplets cascading over him and down onto Crowley, but it had ceased to matter quite as much when faced with this display of his demon loving him.  
  
And that was precisely what he was doing, it was clear. That was the _only_ point of it, right now. In this particular case he didn't have the time needed to express it in a... perhaps more sophisticated manner.  
  
As they neared the point of separation, both of them were getting sort of overwhelmed, in their own ways, thinking about it.  
  
Crowley still didn't want to stop him from going. He _wouldn't_ do that. He was afraid; more over Aziraphale being gone than the fact he'd be by himself, but both of those things still made him nervous. There was no getting around that, but he would still do everything in his power to keep the plan steady.  
  
A few days wasn't a big deal. In the big picture, it really wasn't, and he knew that. They were fucking _immortal_. They would be together for the rest of time. This was less than a blip on the timeline of their lives. He had no doubt he was going to get over it, but still... the general notion of Aziraphale being gone was enough to make him feel sort of desperate, like he had to make every remaining second count. He felt a compulsion to do everything he could to make Aziraphale feel his love, before he went. He had to hook it into him so he would hold onto it extra tightly while he was gone. That was what was driving him, at the moment.  
  
His ears were burning from the way Aziraphale's sounds of pleasure were surrounding him, bouncing off the shower walls, refracted into every inch of the space around him. He soaked in them, and took them for the encouragement that they were. Each flick of his tongue and movement of his head brought one out. For each one he got, though, he wanted another.  
  
He didn't think he was a greedy person, in general... that distinction fell to Aziraphale, if anyone. But when it came to this, he could understand being gluttonous.  
  
Aziraphale was awestruck as he watched, witnessing Crowley pull off of him only to move in even closer, sucking one of his balls into his mouth with a pleased murmur, letting Aziraphale's cock rest heavy on his face. The sharp catch of breath he received in return for doing that only encouraged him, and so he let go and gave the other one its equal share of attention, then repeated the process for each, for good measure.   
  
Aziraphale felt his muscles tense as Crowley moved back again, placing kisses over the head before taking it between his lips, and lavishing all of his attention there. His left hand fell onto Crowley's shoulder, settling heavily with his fingertips resting at the top of the shoulder blade. If Crowley's wings were out, he'd be gripping that one, and he thought he'd also definitely be stroking the feathers.  
  
His cheeks hollowed as he sucked on the top, drawing out a dribble of precome, and it turned Aziraphale's breathing ragged. Crowley was a proud creature, when it came to this, at least, and for good reason. When he decided he was going to do this, he always, without fail, managed to melt Aziraphale down to his core.  
  
"Crowley, I... I'm going to--"  
  
Honestly, it was cute how he always tried to warn beforehand. Even the very first time, before he knew anything at all, he'd tried to say something. Crowley could see it coming from a mile off, even without that, but the warnings were given from a place of courtesy, which was endearing.  
  
Crowley looked up at him through his lashes, cutting off his last word and taking his breath with that sharp gaze that was practically _begging_ him to just give it up already. In the next second he was doing just that, spilling hot and heavy against his demon's tongue, with some of it shooting to the back of his throat. Thankfully, choking was something that Crowley was basically incapable of doing, short of choking on air, when he was surprised. He drank it down easily, with a soft moan, like it was his favorite treat.  
  
That wasn't to be the end of it, though. Crowley made that clear very quickly, not so much as slowing his pace even after he expertly swallowed down Aziraphale's come. He looked up at him pleadingly, not wanting to pull off to actually ask, and somehow communicated his desire for another. One wasn't enough right now. He needed more. He still needed to _do_ more.  
  
Aziraphale graced him with that opportunity, quickly willing himself ready to continue.  
  
Crowley moved his hands from where they held Aziraphale's hips, slipping his fingers between the angel's on one side, to hold his hand, and then he shifted his partner's other hand up from his shoulder to rest against the back of his head.  
  
With the places set for the second act, Crowley dropped his spare hand down between his legs, to give himself some much needed relief. He hadn't had a thought for himself until that moment, but the brief interlude had pointed out to him just how hot his own blood was running.  
  
Part of him wanted Aziraphale to take hold of him and fuck his mouth, but he wouldn't do something like that unless he was asked. Maybe not even if he was asked, come to think of it... Crowley hadn't so much as dipped his toe there before. He couldn't help but get sidetracked, thinking about Aziraphale gently holding his head while he thrust his hips into his face and met Crowley in the middle, taking that pleasure that would be just as willingly given as it was right now... but, either way, Crowley still didn't want to break the contact with him. He wouldn't, not now. Besides, a bigger part of him than that wanted to carry on actively providing the pleasure to his lover, on his own power.  
  
He reveled in the feeling of Aziraphale, thick and heavy in his mouth, quivering and twitching at every little move he made, and fisted his own needy cock. He already knew he wasn't gonna last.  
  
A proper look at the angel told him he wasn't alone in that, either. Neither of them expected to last, this time, so they weren't going to. That was just how it worked.  
  
Then, after only a short time, Aziraphale's hand turned slightly, he started to _pet him_, and he actually lost it.  
  
The shower made it difficult to hear, but Aziraphale _felt_ Crowley's whine vibrate up his cock as the demon's pleasure crested, along with that uptick in his pace that was impossible to ignore. Crowley swallowed him down with great fervor while he rode his own waves, fucking his hand while pressing down til his nose met Aziraphale's skin with each bob of his head. He was guiding the blonde to fuck deep into his throat at the apex of each thrust, and it had his toes curling.  
  
He couldn't withstand Crowley's fierce assault for very long. It was only another minute after Crowley went over, two at most, before Aziraphale was coming a second time, dropping another heavy load on that clever tongue. He stilled, staying where he was and shivering hard at the feeling of his demon swallowing around him, holding onto his hand for dear life.  
  
When he'd gone soft, Crowley moved back, allowing him to slip free from his mouth. He was a mess, the bottom part of his face marked with stray bits of saliva that were dislodged when he let Aziraphale go, but he was only like that for a moment. The jets of water quickly took care of it.   
  
He stood on shaky legs, breathing heavily, and leaned into Aziraphale, who instinctively supported him by moving his arms and holding him around the waist.   
  
Despite having been made to come twice in such quick succession, he still maintained slightly more control over his faculties than Crowley. No matter what form it took, sex always did a number on his love, as far as putting him out of sorts. Crowley always put everything he had into it, and Aziraphale secretly found that to be horribly endearing.  
  
It also felt like instinct when he kissed Crowley, nudging his tongue past his demon's lips. He tasted himself there, in Crowley's mouth, and the eroticism of that idea, once he'd realized it, made him let out a little moan. He'd never quite done that before; he'd never kissed Crowley _right_ _after_ the other had gone down on him. Some part of him felt like that was probably quite indecent, but he didn't dislike it... not by a long shot.  
  
Loath as he was to break the moment... in a very reluctant movement, and with a groan, Crowley pulled away from him. "Gotta go. We stay in here much longer, 'n you'll miss it." He breathed, voice a bit raspy from his exertions.   
  
It wasn't that Kings Cross was a far trip. Quite the contrary, in fact... but they would definitely blow _way_ past carried away if they stayed where they were. They both knew how they could get, especially when emotionally charged like this.  
  
"Right." Aziraphale responded, just before Crowley felt a finger press to his neck and a tingle spread through his throat.  
  
Exhibiting absolute _mountains_ of self control through the whole process, the two of them finally finished actually getting clean, got out, dried, and dressed.  
  
After draining the rest of the pot of coffee and getting sufficiently armored up, glasses and all, Crowley put his game face on and picked up Aziraphale's bag, ready to escort him.  
  
"Are you sure--"  
  
"Yes." Crowley looked over his shoulder at him. "Yeah, Angel. I'm sure."  
  
The blonde nodded in understanding, and nothing else was said as they left the flat and rode the lift down to the lobby.  
  
Aziraphale slowed as they left the building and approached the car, obviously deferring to Crowley's judgment, and he watched as the demon walked up to the passenger door, opening it and looking at him expectantly. Taking the cue, he stepped up and slid into the car, and soon enough Crowley had placed the bag in the back seat and taken his place at the wheel. He hadn't gotten his chance to properly see Aziraphale drive, and he still wanted it _badly_, but he wasn't going to waste it on a short trip like this.  
  
And indeed, it was a short trip. It seemed like he'd barely even had time to put his hand in Aziraphale's and get the car up to speed before they'd arrived.  
  
He drove into the car park, after the gate automatically opened for them, and pulled the Bentley into a space that was as close to the entrance as possible. He knew he would want to be out of here quickly, when he returned.  
  
When they exited the car, they still had about 20 minutes to spare before the boarding of Aziraphale's train. Even counting the walk from the car park to the station itself, it was plenty of time not to have to rush through Kings Cross, for a pair of unnoticed supernatural entities. They wouldn't have to deal with any of the hassle of standing in queues, presenting tickets, or any of that nonsense.  
  
Unfortunately for Crowley, it was so early in the morning that there wasn't much people watching to be done. That was the one thing he actually enjoyed about being in public, and he couldn't indulge in it just yet. Humans, to him, were sort of fascinating in their reactions to their environment, so it left him a bit deflated just to see them all shuffling around groggy and mildly annoyed. _More_ annoyed, should they encounter a rare individual that thrived in these conditions.  
  
Though, to be fair, he couldn't blame them. After all, he would be in the exact same state if not for the coffee that Aziraphale had made for him.  
  
As they entered the building, Aziraphale slipped his arm into Crowley's, hooking them together at the elbow, and put his hand into the demon's, too. He felt Crowley soften beside him and glanced up at his face, smiling to himself when he saw that familiar pink glow in his cheeks.  
  
Some part of him hoped that Crowley would never stop reacting that strongly to him.  
  
Little did he know, Crowley felt the same. After millennia of starving for Aziraphale's attention, actually getting it fed him better than any food ever would. The fact that he could now feast freely on it without fear certainly helped.  
  
They'd entered from the opposite side of the building, versus where they ultimately needed to be, but that was by design. In their heads, the longer it took to get to the platform, the longer it would be before they had to split up. That wasn't actually true, of course, but it helped them to believe it.  
  
On the slow walk between platforms 10 and 9, they passed that infamous sign, with a half trolley beneath it, jutting out from the wall, and witnessed a small child of about 10 there with his parents.  
  
Crowley zapped a tiny miracle that way, when the boy stepped up to take the customary photo with it, and the trolley moved when he took hold of it, sinking into the wall just a couple of inches.  
  
The child's look of total wonderment and the absolute _flood_ of love that came at him from Aziraphale's direction made it more than worth it. The angel squeezed his hand and briefly laid his head on Crowley's shoulder in approval as they continued to walk.  
  
They passed Platforms 9, 8, and 7 in a relatively quick manner... too quick for Crowley's liking, even though he knew they were on a time crunch here. He stubbornly dug his heels in, expected there to be a crepe stand around Platform 6, and then, miraculously, there was one.  
  
Of course, he had to indulge his angel, so he made a big show of noticing it, strode up, and bought them each one; a strawberry and cream one for him (mostly for him to _hold_, and maybe take two bites from, because let's face it, they were actually both for Aziraphale), and a chocolate banana one for Aziraphale. Aziraphale's was handily defeated before they even reached Platform 5, and Crowley had given his over shortly after.  
  
Despite his effort, he couldn't stop the end result from coming. Sooner than he would've liked, they reached the ultimate destination; Platform 4, and the locomotive that was on the track there, looming.  
  
Crowley stopped, about halfway up the row of train cars. He could go no further.  
  
Aziraphale had carried on moving, but stopped when he realized that Crowley had gone motionless. "Are you alright, dear?"  
  
"Yeah. All good." He said, but still didn't move. He tried to beg Aziraphale not to press it with the look in his eyes. He was afraid of what might happen if they kept pushing. He didn't want to break.  
  
Thankfully, Aziraphale had mercy on him, and didn't ask again, but instead took a glance toward the door, then back to Crowley. "It seems as though they've started boarding already. I should probably get a bit of a wiggle on."  
  
Even if Crowley had been expecting that, he probably wouldn't have been able to hold in his snort. Of all of Aziraphale's little phrases he liked to use, that one was probably the most ridiculous, but simultaneously it was one of the most charming. "You keep trying to make that a thing, but it's never gonna catch on."  
  
"It's caught on in the most important place, sweetest." Aziraphale smiled, turning to wrap his arms around Crowley. "I love you. Stay out of trouble while I'm away, won't you?"  
  
"No way. Trouble's my middle name. I'm gonna cause all kinds of havoc without anybody here to thwart me."  
  
"Liar. Your middle name starts with a J, and for the life of me I can't figure out what it is." Aziraphale teased, squeezing him, and he thought if he concentrated enough, he could feel more love flowing into him through that contact. "Take it easy on your plants, please. Don't fuss them any more than usual. Don't take this out on them. I don't want to be responsible for their distress."  
  
"They only get what they deserve." Crowley huffed, realizing belatedly that he was clinging. He eased up, and the train's whistle blew at the same time, catching him off guard and making him jump. "Shit. Bloody trains." He cursed, pulling Aziraphale back in close. "I love you. Have fun, okay? Don't worry about me too much. I'm sure I'm gonna bitch and moan about how lonely I am, but I'll get over it."  
  
He could see it on the tip of Aziraphale's tongue, that offer to stay, but he didn't speak it into existence. He knew Crowley didn't want him to do that. "I'm available if you need me, dear. Any time of the day or night. And I'll be calling. I haven't forgotten what you asked of me."  
  
"I know."  
  
"I do think I'd really better go now, love. I don't want to make all your efforts meaningless. You stayed up all night with me and got up early to escort me here, so I need to make sure I get on this train."  
  
"Yeah. Have a safe trip."  
  
"I will." Aziraphale assured him, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. "I'll be in touch."  
  
When Aziraphale finally moved away from him, as his warmth faded, Crowley felt the loss of his presence like the slice of a knife down to his very core.  
  
Of course, he didn't normally react this way to Aziraphale going away. He'd gotten used to the daily routine at this point. It was just that... this time, he wasn't coming back for a while, and Crowley easily felt the difference.  
  
Only for a few days, he kept trying to remind himself. Just a few days.  
  
Aziraphale got about halfway to the train car before Crowley's heart started to pound in his ears.  
  
He briefly wondered if this was how Aziraphale felt that day, watching him walk away from the bandstand, but he knew that was wrong. That had definitely been way worse. Right now, he had the assurance that Aziraphale would be home at the end of the week.  
  
Back then, Aziraphale had thought he would never see Crowley again.  
  
He shook his head, pulling himself out of it. He had to do this right, and his window of opportunity was closing.  
  
"Angel... come back." He croaked, as if he weren't totally sure the other would hear him, but Aziraphale swiftly turned on his heel to do just that.  
  
He'd been listening, observing, analyzing... even with his back turned to Crowley, he was totally aware of him. His eyes were soft on Crowley by the time he'd come to be standing in front of him again. "Should I stay, after all?" He guessed, letting his hand slide into that one spot that it favored the most, cupping Crowley's cheek.  
  
"Mm-mm. Just... need to give you something. Didn't do it, and I've gotta. I won't rest if I don't." Came the reply, and Crowley slid his glasses off, hooking one metal arm into the neck of his shirt.  
  
Aziraphale didn't have the opportunity to ask what it was before Crowley was yanking him forward by his lapels, bringing their lips together and shoving his tongue through. Aziraphale dropped his bag at their feet immediately to respond in kind, wrapping his arms around Crowley's back.  
  
It was a fight, not to let it progress any more than that after the way they'd left things in the shower, but they managed, somehow. Crowley kept his limbs under control, and left them in their PG places... and Aziraphale suppressed his own sudden urge to pick Crowley up and hold him in his arms as they kissed, perhaps even pinning him to a nearby wall.  
  
Aziraphale didn't say anything, when they broke apart, but he couldn't stop staring. He was memorizing every detail of Crowley, like this, to keep it with him while he was away.  
  
The instant Crowley had enough of his faculties back to speak, he did, breaking the silence. "Had to... leave you with something to miss, y'know?"  
  
And then there was a soft smile, accompanied by a hand on the back of his head, and he was being drawn in once more.  
  
They didn't have to rush, at this stage. The train _would_ wait. Even if they ran over its departure time, it would sit right there in that spot until they were finished. It had slipped from Aziraphale's mind, but Crowley was making sure of that.  
  
After a couple of minutes of cycling through lip locks and breaks for breath that they didn't technically need, they finally managed to get out all of the nervous energy for the moment and settled down.  
  
"I rather think that you did that already this morning, you wily old serpent." Aziraphale hummed, staying close with his hand lightly pressing in on the small of Crowley's back. "Now I just have twice the reason to miss you."  
  
"Ngk." Crowley looked a little dazed, after all of that, and it put a tiny hit of pride into Aziraphale's veins. After a moment he straightened up, collecting himself and letting go of Aziraphale's front in favor of winding his arms around the other's waist in another hug. He stayed there until he thought he was in danger of not being able to move before moving back again to look him deep in the eyes. "Right. Mind how you go."  
  
The angel smiled at Crowley, reaching in to pull his coat closed and button it up, shielding his cold blooded love from the chill he could feel settling in. "You do the same, dear. Drive safely, please."  
  
"Got it. I'll go at 70, not 90." Crowley grinned, unable to help planting another little peck on Aziraphale's lips, conjuring a scarf to wind around his angel's neck before stepping back from him finally.  
  
"Let me know when you get there safe." They said, in unison, and then burst into laughter just the same way.  
  
They obviously didn't have a problem saying the actual words, 'I love you', at this point, but these had all been slightly more meaningful ways of saying them.  
  
Appropriate for a parting, however temporary.  
  
Crowley saw him onto the train, carrying his bag up to the door, and then handed it over as they really did part. Their fingers had brushed as he did so, just like they had when he'd handed over that bag of books way back when, and he was sure he would think about that a lot throughout the day.   
  
He stepped back then, moving away from the track as he watched Aziraphale settle into his seat by the window. His heart lurched a little when the train actually began to move, taking his angel away from him, but he tamped that down and waved him off with a smile, staying until the train was out of sight. At that point, suddenly feeling very alone, he reached down into his coat to draw his glasses back out and place them back onto his face. No one could see him now, of course... he had long since faded from sight _and_ from the minds of everyone around, but he still felt better that way, shielded. Old habits, and all that.  
  
The trip back around the station by himself was much more melancholy, causing him to meander his way through, but... at the very least, he got a bit of joy out of walking back past the family from before, hearing the son excitedly swearing to everyone that would listen that he'd gotten the trolley to move and he was _definitely_ a wizard that would be getting his letter next year.  
  
That gave Crowley just enough pep to keep his feet moving until he got to the Bentley. He got in and closed the door heavily behind him, sighing as he reached over to turn the key. It had to almost definitely be an overreaction to be feeling _this_ blue over being alone for just a few days... but nevertheless, he already felt it.  
  
Aziraphale's ring caught the emerging light of day as Crowley went to wrap his hand around the steering wheel, drawing his attention, and he looked at it for a moment, running his fingers over the band. _Be safe._ He raised his hand and pressed his lips to the signet reverently before finally putting the old car into gear so he could begin his short trip home.  
  
On the train, already nearly out of the city limits, Aziraphale felt a light tingle against his right pinky finger.  
  
He didn't know why, exactly, but it made him smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I'm late guys! I made an announcement on my tumblr that I would be running behind but I'm not sure if anybody saw it.
> 
> TLDR: The flu was going around last week and it hit me Thursday night going into Friday. I was sick as shit for the whole weekend, and I'm still dealing with some lingering ailments, but I could finally concentrate enough to finish this chapter. Thankfully I had it most of the way written before I got sick. I wanted to try to make sure it was up to normal standards... if it fell short, I'm sorry. I really tried. I'm tired 😂


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Approximately 20 minutes after they'd parted, Aziraphale's phone was chirping with messages. Once he'd pulled it from his pocket, he found two on the screen:
> 
> **Crowley**  
Just got home
> 
> **Crowley**  
Miss you already
> 
> Aziraphale gave the phone a longing glance. The feeling was very mutual. He'd known that this was going to have an effect on him, too, but he wasn't quite prepared for the sheer depth of the melancholy feeling poking at his heart. 

Approximately 20 minutes after they'd parted, Aziraphale's phone was chirping with messages. Once he'd pulled it from his pocket, he found two on the screen:  
  
**Crowley**  
Just got home

**Crowley**  
Miss you already  
  
Aziraphale gave the phone a longing glance. The feeling was very mutual. He'd known that this was going to have an effect on him, too, but he wasn't quite prepared for the sheer depth of the melancholy feeling poking at his heart.   
  
_Well, I'm glad to hear you didn't crash the car, at least._  
_I'm kidding, of course. I *am* rather glad to hear you made it home alright, though._  
_Take a nap, dear. You've definitely earned it, with your brilliant job escorting me this morning._  
_I love you._

**Crowley**  
Love you too 💕  
  
**Crowley**  
Gonna take you up on that 'cause I'm tired as fuck now

**Crowley**  
Your coffee helped a lot but y'know I'm naturally kinda lethargic

**Crowley**  
Text me when you get to Leeds  
  
_I certainly will, love. Have a good sleep._  
  
Aziraphale observed the tiny hearts in Crowley's message and made a mental note to ask him about them later. He couldn't help but find them (especially their small size) horribly endearing. He had seen miniature pictures like this before, in his travels across the internet, but hadn't looked into what they were, and Crowley had a way of explaining things to him that made them make sense.  
  
They were both good at doing that for each other, it seemed.  
  
With Crowley asleep, though, Aziraphale's entertainment went with him. He hadn't brought any books along, since he'd figured on needing most of the space in his bag for whatever he'd pick up at the auctions. He ended up settling on watching the scenery out the window, since he didn't leave London too often and it was fresh. He couldn't remember the last time he had been up this way, actually.  
  
The journey was about two and a half hours, all told. He managed to make it for an hour and a half of that, but eventually Aziraphale started to get a bit peckish. He hadn't been on a train in quite some time, so he was unsure if a full meal service was a normal thing these days, but... he thought it would be nice if it was, set that expectation, and soon enough he was being brought a wide plate, containing all the trimmings of an English breakfast, and a cup of tea to go with it.  
  
He still didn't know if that was normal or if he'd 'inspired' it to happen, but it didn't matter. He had food in front of him, either way.  
  
And pretty decent food, at that. He'd had better, of course - one couldn't go to The Ritz as often as he had with Crowley over the years and say otherwise - but still, he was no snob. When it came to food, he didn't discriminate. He'd proudly declare some random, hole in the wall places were among the best he'd ever had, and he'd try anything at least once. Besides, there was only so much a person could expect from a train kitchen. It was a wonder they'd had the ingredients to make a full breakfast in the first place. He did have to think at least that part was a bit miraculous.  
It felt like he'd barely finished when the train came to a stop at the station in Leeds.  
  
The first thing he did after stepping off the train (and having a good stretch) was text Crowley, as promised.  
  
I've arrived. I can't check in at the hotel quite yet, but I'm going to go and drop my bag off there, then head over to the event. I'll be moving around quite a bit, but I'll reply to you as soon as I can.  
  
He sent the message, then waited a few minutes. He didn't receive a response, so he figured Crowley was still sleeping. It was likely that he would be for a while.  
  
After following his stated path, he ended up at the entrance, surprised as he looked at the series of large tents. He hadn't quite expected the whole affair to be this big of a deal.  
  
Looking around as he moved toward the row of little booths, his eyes fell on a familiar face, and he made a beeline for Donley, who greeted him warmly as he approached. "Ah, Mr. Fell. I'm glad to see you made it. Did the trip treat you well?"  
  
"Yes, it did, rather. It's been a while since I've been this far out of London."  
  
"Did you drive?"  
  
"Oh, no. I took the train from King's Cross. I prefer to be able to sit back and relax if I'm traveling a long way. Believe it or not, I'm also still a fairly new driver. I've had the license for a long time, but never had much need to use it."  
  
"Ah, I see." The man visibly deflated. "I must admit, I'd sort of hoped to get another look at that beautiful Bentley of yours." He began to look around, into the mostly empty space behind Aziraphale. "That reminds me, did you end up bringing your partner? I do recall you'd asked if that was alright."  
  
"Ah, no. We discussed it, but he opted to stay home. He's not really a book person, and he said Leeds isn't his scene. It was just about what I expected from the conversation, really. I'd just wanted to leave the door open if possible." He laughed. "I have my hobbies, and he has his, you understand."  
  
"Naturally. I meant to ask you last time, is he a car collector?"  
  
"I'm not sure one car could be considered a collection, regardless of how much he treasures it. It is a shame he didn't come, for that reason. I'm sure he would have been more than happy to tell you all about it." Crowley's instinct to talk about the car like it was his own child would override his annoyance, surely. Especially if Aziraphale encouraged him. "But no, his hobby is quite different than that. Probably not what you'd expect. He's... got a bit of a green thumb. I guess you could say he has his own little Eden in the flat. The plants he grows are quite verdant."  
  
"It doesn't sound like he'd be interested in attending one of these events himself, then."  
  
"Probably not. He has a sentimental attachment to that car in particular. He's kept it in that condition ever since he got it."  
  
Of course, he didn't (and of course wouldn't) mention that 'ever since he got it' in Crowley's case meant 'since it rolled off the assembly line'.  
  
His phone buzzed, and before he even took it out of his pocket, he was saying "Ah, excuse me a moment. That will be him checking in on me now."  
  
**Crowley**  
Shit sorry  
  
**Crowley**  
Just woke up  
  
_That's quite alright, love. Did you have a nice nap?  
_  
**Crowley**  
Yeah but I got kinda confused  
  
**Crowley**  
Forgot you weren't here for a minute  
  
For a brief moment after he read the message, the urge to cuddle Crowley was overwhelming. It got worse when he truly realized he _couldn't_.  
  
_Are you alright?_  
  
**Crowley**  
Yeah I'm fine 👍

**Crowley**  
How's the thing  
  
_Nothing to speak of quite yet. I'm just checking in now._  
  
It was at that point that he remembered he was still standing in front of Donley, and his head snapped up. "Goodness, I'm being terribly rude. Apologies. I'm not very good at... well, this." He said, gesturing toward the phone. "It takes me much longer than it would for most, I suppose, and I can't multitask at all. I imagine that I'm a pain to teach, but... thankfully, he's patient."  
  
"You really love him, don't you."  
  
Aziraphale blinked. It was all he could do in response. He hadn't expected that. "...I'm sorry?"  
  
Donley looked caught. "Ah, no... I'm sorry for saying that so suddenly. I was just struck by your tenderness. It's sweet, how you look when you're talking about him. It's nostalgic for me, I suppose. It reminds me of how my mother used to look at my father. It's sort of rare to see that these days, I think." He raised a hand to awkwardly scratch at the back of his head. "I apologize for blurting my opinion, unprompted. I didn't mean anything by it, Mr. Fell."  
  
"Oh. No, you needn't apologize. It's alright." Aziraphale smiled. "I'm not offended. It just caught me off guard, is all. For what it's worth, you're right. I do love him quite a lot. He and I have been through so much together, but all of this is still sort of fresh, and I don't have an opportunity to talk about him very often, so... I'm rambling, aren't I." He laughed. "I'm sure it's common among people of this trade, but I'm sort of introverted, so I don't do much interacting with others except during shop hours."  
  
"You know, I'm glad I managed to catch up with you that day. It seems like you lead a very interesting life, Mr. Fell." Donley returned the smile with a good-natured one of his own. "But, in any case... before I have a chance to make a bigger fool of myself, let me give you your materials." He handed Aziraphale a sheet of paper with a spreadsheet printed on it. "You'll be getting a new one of these on your way in every day, to tell you what will be auctioned off, which tent it will take place in, and at what time. Today will be quite low-key in comparison to the rest of the week, so there's only one sheet. The heavy hitting items will start phasing in tomorrow, and we'll fluctuate between two and three sheets from that point. We like to ease everyone in and let them get their bearings, that way it's not quite so overwhelming."  
  
"I see." It was as solid a plan as any, he supposed. It seemed like an event that would get its regulars, but he assumed there was probably also a decent crop of new people every year.  
  
"And you'll need this, as well." He said, hooking a lanyard through the hole at the top of a laminated badge before handing it over to Aziraphale. "While you're in the event area, you'll need to be wearing it. Having a way to identify our members on sight keeps the public from wandering in and doing whatever they like."  
  
Aziraphale could immediately appreciate the merits of that, having been directly working with the public for the last couple hundred years.  
  
"We've also made some deals with some local businesses to offer discounts to people who show their badges, and you can find the options for that listed on the back of it, if you're interested."  
  
Aziraphale promptly flipped it over, pleased when he spotted a few local restaurants on the list. Not that it mattered so much as far as saving money, when he had infinite access at the snap of a finger, but he saw an opportunity to do some good by helping to foster a working relationship between the organization running the event and the local area. It seemed that they moved around from year to year, but they may deign to return to Leeds at some point in the future, and it would help if relations were positive.  
  
He almost felt he needed to do some good deeds to balance out the inherent amount of underhanded things he would be doing throughout the week. He might have been inspired by Crowley's actions that morning, too.  
  
"That's about it. If you need anything else, let me know. I'll be here for most of the day."  
  
"I certainly will." He paused, slipping the badge around his neck. "If you're not opposed, perhaps I can treat you to dinner sometime this week, as thanks for inviting me."  
  
"I'd love to, but I'm afraid I'll have to decline for now. Rules and all." Donley waved flippantly in the air. "However, if I just so happen to be in London at some point in the future, I'd be happy to cash that in at that time. Perhaps I could bring my wife, as well. She's quite fond of books, I'm sure the two of you could have a lovely conversation."  
  
"Of course, I'll make sure to have the car and its expert at the ready as well, in either case." He laughed, finally stepping away from the booth. "Well then, I'm sure I'll be seeing you around."  
  
"Good luck, Mr. Fell. I hope you get some good wins."  
  
"Thank you." He said, and then he was off again.  
  
He attended the official opening, where the process was explained in detail. By the time that was done, it was lunch time, so he decided to head over to one of the cafes on the list to grab a bite to eat. By the time he was done with his meal, it was just about check in time, so he headed back to the hotel.  
  
He received his room key, then got his bag from the front desk and took it up to his room, taking a moment to get settled before heading back out. He'd checked out the list, and hadn't found anything he wanted in particular, but he did want to observe a couple of the items being auctioned off so he could get a feel for how it worked in practice. He watched three auctions, in total, and the third one dragged out for a while. Before he knew it, it was already dinner time.  
  
He ordered delivery from a sushi bar a bit outside of the city, tipped the deliverer generously, and then snapped a slightly unsteady photo of the box it came in to send to Crowley. It was shaped like a sakura blossom, and he found it to be just about the most endearing thing he'd ever seen. There were a few things that topped it, of course, like the demon himself.  
  
_I've settled into my room for the evening, dearest._  
_I'm having dinner now. Isn't this packaging cute?_  
_I'd like to call you after I've eaten a bit, if you're amenable to that idea._  
  
After a span of time that couldn't have been more than a few seconds, an answer was zapped back to him.  
  
**Crowley**  
You could call me at 3:00 in the bloody morning and I'd be 'amenable'  
  
He'd called up his keyboard to respond when a second one came through.  
  
**Crowley**  
I'd talk to you on the phone all day and night and you know it Angel  
  
Aziraphale had to smile at that, and not just because of the capital 'A' Angel he was so unendingly fond of seeing. He _did_ know that, and it actually _meant something_, because Crowley had always hated talking on the phone. If he could avoid it, he'd done so at all costs. Aziraphale could still remember the pure excitement he'd burst out with when the humans had first invented those infernal message machines.  
  
He ate about half of his order, then put the rest into his refrigerator, not wanting to make Crowley wait any longer, or rush his eating. As much as he savored _everything_ he ate, he always seemed to put about three times as much effort into appreciating good sushi. It wasn't the same as his usual; he hadn't forged a personal relationship with the chef here, after all, but it was still very good.  
  
He swore the phone barely had time to ring once before Crowley picked up. "Hey, Angel."  
  
"Sorry to have you wait around on me. What are you up to this evening, love?"  
  
"'M having a bath."  
  
For a split second it made Aziraphale feel like he had a lump in his throat, but he shook that off. He was proud, in some way, that Crowley was managing that on his own, without letting the implied negative connotations scare him off.  
  
Obviously, it wasn't the cleanliness Crowley was using it for, it was the warmth and comfort. That was something Aziraphale would normally provide himself, but couldn't do at the moment since he wasn't there.  
  
"'S not the same without you here." The act was relaxing to a point, but after a while he'd started to notice how empty the tub felt with just him.  
  
"I know, dearest. I'm sorry. I'll soak in a bath with you all day, when I get back, if that will make you happy."  
  
The water splashed as Crowley moved, draping his arm along the edge of the tub. He held the phone with the other hand. "You being back'll make me happy enough by itself. Don't have to do anything special."  
  
"I could come back right now." He would, in less time than it took their superfluous hearts to beat, if Crowley asked him to.  
  
"Don't you dare." Crowley summoned up his best scolding. "Don't you go and make that big deal we made out of things this morning mean nothing. You wanna be there, so be there. 'M gonna live, 'n so are you. It's just a few days." He wasn't going to mention how many times he'd had to remind himself of that, just today... or the fact that they were days that apparently had plans to feel like years. But, in the end, they were days all the same.  
  
There was a pause, and then, feeling bold, he added "'Sides, not sure you'd wanna be here _right now_, anyway. You'd have to sit in my dirty demon water."  
  
Aziraphale was about to do some scolding of his own, telling him off for being self deprecating, when he caught the actual meaning of what Crowley had said. "Oh." He turned a little pink, thinking about the shower from that morning, and also the last time they'd shared a bath, what they'd gotten up to, and how it felt.  
  
"Too lazy to clean it up." Crowley said, in an answer to an unasked question. He would do, in a bit... eventually it would bother him enough, but lethargy had him in its clutches for the moment.  
  
"Did you _just_ finish?"  
  
"Uh... couple minutes ago, yeah. Right before you messaged me, funny enough."  
  
"And you still answered that fast?" His amused smile was evident in his voice. "What did you think about, while you did it?"  
  
"Ngk."  
  
Aziraphale wasn't quite sure what that sound had come out in response to, but he assumed it was the second part. "Is it alright, if I ask that?"  
  
"Yeah. Just... 'm gonna have to be careful so I don't get all worked up again."  
  
Something in Crowley's voice told him it wasn't the time to attempt _that_. He wasn't quite sure if he had the stones to initiate it, either. Not just yet, anyway. He would see what the week would bring. "Take your time, dear."  
  
After a moment, he popped a bottle of Pinot Noir and a glass onto the side table next to him and poured himself some. "So, I talked about you today." He found himself saying, before lifting the glass to his lips so he could taste it.  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"It was one of those conversations where one thing sort of leads into another, and next thing you know, you're gushing." He chuckled. "And, apparently, I was _quite obviously_ gushing."  
  
"Jesus bloody Christ, Angel. Can't let you outta my sight for _one day_ before you're doing embarrassing shit."  
  
Aziraphale smiled, settling deeper into the chair as he tucked the phone between his chin and shoulder. "I was accused of looking _tender_. **_Me_**. Can you believe it?"  
  
That cracked Crowley, and he laughed. "Oh, no. Never."  
  
"But... in all seriousness, I'll stop, if it bothers you."  
  
"Mm-mm. It doesn't. 'S just weird, thinking about you, off somewhere, talking about me. I know you've gotta be being sappy, you can't bloody well help it." Crowley snorted. "I love it, when you do it with me. No point trying to cover it up. The idea of you doing it when you're talking to somebody else _is_ embarrassing, but, like... the good kind. Y'know?"  
  
"Well, it doesn't happen very often, for clarity's sake. I'm not down at the bookshop pouring my heart out to everyone that walks in the door." Aziraphale laughed. "I was just having a friendly conversation with the man that invited me up here in the first place."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. He said he was struck by how I look when I talk about you. Then, the accusations of tenderness began to fly."  
  
"Uh... speaking of, to get back 'round to _that_, what I was thinking about? I still wanna answer. I thought about... how you looked this morning, while I was... well, y'know."  
  
"And how _did_ I look?"  
  
"Pretty." Crowley hummed, and Aziraphale could practically hear his flush on the other end of the phone. "I really like watching you when I'm doing that for you. It's up there with how you look when you eat."  
  
"Oh, my. I'm glad to hear that." It was high praise, indeed. Aziraphale knew this well. "Was that _all_ you thought about?"  
  
"Uh, well... no. I thought about... what we might've gotten up to if we had more time. I thought you might've... lifted me up and squished me back against the wall while you, er... had me. You're strong. You could hold me up, easy."  
  
"I could." He agreed. Even if it weren't for his abnormal strength, Crowley hardly weighed a thing. With those two things combined, it was a cinch. "Would you _like_ me to, dear?"  
  
"Ngk. Um... yeah. Kinda."  
  
"I'll keep that in mind."  
  
Crowley gave a whine of frustration. "Aaaand now I really need to stop talking about this before I get a boner. Can't be thinking about this, no sir. Only so much I can take with you not here." He rolled over onto his back. _"You_ tell _me_ something, now. Fair's fair."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"Tell me..." He trailed off. He seemed to be having some slight difficulty in actually asking for whatever it was that had popped into his head. Or, perhaps trying to think of something that was decidedly unsexy, to save himself from the edge of a predicament.  
  
"Tell you _what?"_ Aziraphale encouraged, fingers twisting around the stem of his wine glass.  
  
"Tell me some more of the story." Crowley said, in a small voice.  
  
_This_ wasn't what he'd expected, of all things, but Aziraphale didn't have to ask what he meant. A white hot lance of affection pierced his heart. "I'd be happy to."  
  
"Wait a minute, though. 'M gonna get out of here and go get in bed first."  
  
"Of course, dear."  
  
There was a big splash as Crowley hoisted himself out of the bath, cleaning and draining it as he did, some rustling sounds as he dried off, and eventually he was plopping down on the bed with a creak of the mattress. He laid the phone down, put it on speaker and got comfortable, then finally spoke up to Aziraphale again. "We're good."  
  
"Right. Now, where did I leave off?"  
  
"Y'told me about the demon's good heart. He saved some kids from a big flood."  
  
"Oh, yes." He hadn't actually forgotten, he'd just wanted to see what Crowley would say. "Ah... the next part of the story is sort of... unsavory."  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. It involves the crucifixion, if that tells you anything."  
  
Crowley hummed, tracing patterns into Aziraphale's empty pillow. "Sounds dark. 'M not in the mood for dark. Maybe we can skip that bit."  
  
"Well, then, that will lead us to Rome."  
  
"Rome?"  
  
"Yes. You see, after the Flood, they didn't meet for a quite a while. The angel kept an eye out, as he traveled around, completing his assignments, but he didn't find the demon anywhere. He never confirmed his whereabouts, but the world was a lot less densely packed, in those days. It should have been easier to run into someone, if they were there to run into at all, so he thought the demon might have gone back to Hell for a while."  
  
Crowley almost laughed. He'd actually spent a lot of that time sleeping. Not consecutively, but that was a prototype for his current, very human sleep schedule, in a way. "The angel stayed on Earth?"  
  
"He did. He was instructed to stay on the Ark, with the few the Lord had chosen to spare. In a way, it sent him back to his roots. He was on childcare duty again, for a little while."  
  
"Yeah, 'cause it sounded like it went _so well_ the first time."  
  
"He couldn't figure that one out, himself." He laughed. "But, anyway. As I said, _this_ part of our story takes place in Rome. About a decade after the crucifixion, which was in itself a few thousand years after the Flood. They _really_ hadn't been seeing much of each other. The angel had begun to really explore the human sense of taste, by that point, and so he'd ended up there because he'd heard tales of some remarkably prepared oysters. He hadn't much to do at that moment, so he'd been hanging around the city for a while when the demon showed up again. The angel had become fond of spending his days in the popina socializing, but on that particular day he'd been by himself."  
  
"A popina's like... a pub?"  
  
"Yes." Aziraphale smiled to himself. He honestly loved how Crowley played dumb while he told their story, stepping into this role of asking his questions and making his observations as if he hadn't been there. It was adorable. "It was a custom of the Roman public to do most of their daily socializing there, if they were of a certain status. The more high class members of the society didn't set foot in them."  
  
"Definitely sounds like a pub to me." Crowley laughed.  
  
_"Anyway_. The angel had been there, off to the side, entertaining himself with a game, when he suddenly heard a familiar voice ordering a drink. Imagine his surprise when he approached, and it was indeed the demon, sitting there at the bar. He'd cut off all his hair, but he was still quite unmistakable."  
  
"Was the angel upset he'd cut his hair?"  
  
It felt like this question was something he'd been wanting to ask for a while, thrown under the thin guise of asking about it for the sake of detail in the story.  
  
Aziraphale's fingers twitched, in want of threading themselves through said hair, so he set them to work grasping onto his wine glass again, and he drank the rest of it down before answering. "I imagine that the angel would say his opinion didn't matter, because it wasn't his hair. But, no, he didn't seem to be. He liked the demon's long waves, certainly, but he thought he looked just as nice with a shorter style."  
  
Satisfied with that answer, Crowley hummed as he squished his face into the pillow. "What happened next?"  
  
"The angel approached and tried to start a conversation, but from the beginning it was clear something was off. The demon was in a pretty foul mood, like he hadn't been before. He'd come there intent on getting drunk, which wasn't odd in itself, but his body language said something wasn't right."  
  
"What was wrong with him?"  
  
"He'd been sent on an assignment, a Temptation that would have far reaching ramifications. He was to seduce his way into orchestrating the assassination of the current Emperor. He didn't _want_ to perform the task set in front of him, but there was nothing he could do. He'd come to the popina for some liquid courage, as it were."  
  
Clarity reached Crowley all at once. So this was the part where Aziraphale was going to start to incorporate what he had told him through their sessions, then.  
  
"The angel was oblivious to this, though. He could tell _something_ was wrong, but he didn't have some sort of hyper intuition that would tell him _what_... so, rather than that, he invited himself to join the demon at the bar and try to make some small talk."  
  
"Yeah? How'd that go?"  
  
Aziraphale grimaced at the memory. "Not nearly as well as he might have hoped. For some reason, while he was grasping at a topic, he decided to ask a daft question. He asked 'Still a demon, then?' and received an appropriate, if stinging response. The demon asked what else he was supposed to be, and then resumed frowning at the wall while he drank. In attempt to recover the situation, the angel shared a drink with him, and asked him if he was in Rome for long. That was when he learned about the Temptation. He learned that it _existed_, but not the details of it. He also admitted his own reasons for being in the city, at that time. Then the demon dropped another bombshell on him; he'd never eaten an oyster before!"  
  
Crowley gave an exaggerated gasp in response to the revelation, and it made Aziraphale's expression change to a full on grin, flashing his teeth. "Of course, that couldn't be allowed to stand, so he immediately invited the demon to come to the restaurant with him. 'Let me Tempt you', he said."  
  
"And the demon agreed to it?"  
  
"He did. It could be inferred that he was so caught by the angel's boldness that he could do nothing but say yes. Understandably, he also wanted to get his mind off of his task. They left and went to the restaurant, and miraculously there was a table available for them when they arrived. They spent a couple of hours there, enjoying each other's company, before going their separate ways again. Their bond hadn't quite solidified yet, so... at that stage, their meetings were mostly like this, short and sweet."  
  
Crowley yawned audibly. "What'd they do after they split up?"  
  
"The angel went back to his villa, had a bit more wine, and then went to sleep. The demon, however... went to complete his task."  
  
The silence was a slightly charged one, and Aziraphale wasn't sure how Crowley was going to respond, until he said "He did it."  
  
"He didn't have a choice in the matter. He was good at navigating his way around heavier things, in general, but this was a big task, and Hell still held him in high esteem for his work with the apple. He was also their main field agent, so naturally it would fall to him. He was quite broken up after the fact, and returned to the popina after it was all done. He drank extraordinary amounts of alcohol, went to an abandoned villa, and then he... finally broke down, by himself."  
  
Crowley sighed. "Hope he felt better after that."  
  
"The demon was very good at holding things in, so... perhaps it didn't happen right at that moment, but eventually he was able to let it out."  
  
"This part was kinda sad. Makes me feel bad for 'em. Both of 'em."  
  
"There are certainly parts of the story that are like that. I'm sorry to say it will get worse before it truly gets better... but it does get _much_ better."  
  
A low "Mmf." was Crowley's only response this time.  
  
"Still with me, dear?"  
  
"Yeah." The way his voice sounded tipped Aziraphale off that his status might soon change, though.  
  
"You made it through. What a trooper."  
  
"Shut up." Crowley huffed. "'M still tired."  
  
"I know. You were so good for me this morning, sweetest. You didn't complain even once. You deserve your rest."  
  
Crowley groaned and burrowed into the blanket, then rolled over onto his side. "If you really think so, you better lay off. I'll be up all night again otherwise."  
  
"Alright, alright." Aziraphale laughed. "I'll have mercy on you and let you go, then."  
  
"'Kay."  
  
"Good night, love. Sweet dreams."  
  
"'Night, Angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am glad to report that I'm about 95% recovered from my illness now. I still haven't stopped coughing, but over the last couple of days it seems like I've finally stopped being so fatigued. A true win for my writing process, because last week was killer when I couldn't concentrate on anything for very long. I definitely wouldn't have made it through this chapter, because as it turns out, writing them separated is a lot harder than writing them when they're together!
> 
> Featuring a sneaky return of the angel and demon story despite how much of a pain it was because Crowley needed sweetness and also because I love it
> 
> Let me know what y'all think about the format of their text exchanges if you have any thoughts on that. I figured Aziraphale would have a quirky habit of closing his app every time he gets done sending a message and so he's reading the ones Crowley sends in the notification tray/on the lock screen, which is why I've written them like this. In addition we have the first sniff of emojis...
> 
> Also, Donley is all of us. He ships it :P


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time he woke up again, it was nearly noon. His eyes popped open, and his heart immediately sank when his gaze focused on the empty side of the bed. He couldn't help but run his hand over the cold sheet and sigh. If he were being honest, _truly_ honest, he kind of hated this already. 
> 
> Well, that was still sort of sugarcoating it. He _really_ hated this.

Crowley woke up very early. He wasn't pleased by that, not in the slightest, but he wasn't resting quite as well without Aziraphale home. When he looked over at the clock, he realized it was almost time for the sunrise. He normally slept straight through it, but today he felt like he wanted to see it, so he dragged himself up out of bed and shuffled his way out to the balcony. He stayed, vape in hand, just long enough to watch it start to peek its head out, took a carefully composed photo of it, and sent it over to Aziraphale.  
  
_Miss you._ read the accompanying message.  
  
And then he went back to bed.  
  
By the time he woke up again, it was nearly noon. His eyes popped open, and his heart immediately sank when his gaze focused on the empty side of the bed. He couldn't help but run his hand over the cold sheet and sigh. If he were being honest, _truly_ honest, he kind of hated this already.   
  
Well, that was still sort of sugarcoating it. He _really_ hated this.  
  
Obviously, he _could_ get by without Aziraphale. He had the ability. It wasn't as if he was suddenly completely incapable of surviving on his own now. Quite famously put, he wasn't a bloody invalid.  
  
It was just that... at this point, he really didn't _want_ to be alone. He didn't _want_ to get by like this. He'd had a good taste of sharing his whole life with the angel, and the very idea of going back to this now was ludicrous.   
  
He had to remind himself again that it was temporary. He firmly told himself that he could talk to him whenever he wanted, because bless these lovely, clever human people inventing mobile phones, communication towers, and the internet... you really had to hand it to them, they'd figured out a way to keep in contact with each other even as changes in population density and busy lives shifted a lot of them out of the massive herds they'd traditionally lived in.  
  
He was thankful that he could piggyback off of that.  
  
He rolled over and grabbed his phone off the side table, smiling to himself when he found the notification on his screen.  
**  
Angel**💞✨  
Oh, dear. It's beautiful.   
  
_"You're_ beautiful." He couldn't help saying, to the empty room. And it was true, even if he couldn't see him at the moment, he knew it, and would fiercely attest to that fact. He had his dips and peaks like anyone else, but Aziraphale was _always_ beautiful to Crowley.  
  
Once he actually got back on task and opened his phone, he read the rest of the message.  
  
_It's a pity that I'm not there to see it with you. Perhaps we should try to get you up early again sometime after I return, so we can watch it together. You could get out of bed for that, couldn't you? It would be a worthy enough cause on its own, wouldn't it? If not, I suppose I could come up with something additional to make it worth your while.  
_  
Crowley flushed as he reached the end of the message, and part of him couldn't help wondering what Aziraphale was thinking of. Maybe he didn't realize the implication, or maybe he was even just teasing, but this felt like it was just a step or two behind full on sexting, and thinking of that made his face heat even more. Something told him that could definitely be something Aziraphale started to do without even knowing it was an actual thing. He'd certainly not been afraid to _flirt_, at least... doing it in this form remained fairly new, but still.  
  
After he recovered from that, he scrolled down to read the next one.  
  
_Here's what it looks like in Leeds. It's not as nice as the view there at home, but I thought you might like to see it, anyway.  
_  
To this message, Aziraphale had attached a picture.   
  
Crowley couldn't help but be a bit proud of him for having gotten the hang of that now. His actual photo taking skills still left quite a bit to be desired, but he was _trying_, and damn if Crowley didn't love him for it.  
  
He'd shot the photo out the window in his hotel room, and hadn't turned the lamp off, so the reflection of the room was also featuring in the glass, but Crowley could still see the sun just peeking over a couple of the shorter buildings outside. Judging by the sun's low position, it looked like Aziraphale had taken this shortly after he'd received Crowley's photo.  
  
Looking closer, he found the reflection of the angel himself in the window, and it tugged at his heartstrings a bit. There was no way to deny he missed him terribly. All he wanted to do right now was crawl onto Aziraphale and curl up on him, taking his warmth and burying his face into that pillow soft chest. He'd lie there, on top of him, and Aziraphale would gladly stroke his hair for _hours_ without complaint, and just _be there_ with him. That sort of thing was rather normal for them now, but he appreciated the idea of it even more since it was unattainable at the moment.  
  
But that was the important part to remember; he _couldn't_ get it right now, no matter how much he might want it, so he forcibly shifted his focus back to appreciating the photo before he started to despair over that fact. His angel looked cute, stood there in his pyjamas, pointing his phone uncertainly at the window. This vision of him and imagining how that scene must have played out made Crowley smile so hard his cheeks hurt.  
  
_God_, he loved Aziraphale.  
  
It hit him hard, and he knew he had to get out of the bed before he wound up laying there all day thinking about it. The plants needed tending, he reminded himself. He could do that first and see what followed.  
  
_I liked seeing it this morning but if I got to watch it with you it'd be nicer  
_  
_Guess I can probably be persuaded to get up  
_  
_But just once though so better pick your day wisely  
_  
_Doesn't look half bad there either  
_  
_'Course there's something a lot better looking there in the window💕  
_  
He sent these messages out to Aziraphale, then put his phone back onto the side table. He knew he needed to leave it behind, with how he was feeling today. He could come 'round again in a while and look... if he took it with him, he'd just obsessively check it all day long and get nothing else done.  
  
After that, he finally slid out of bed and got vertical, lazily manifesting a different outfit onto his body as he moved out of the room. He couldn't be bothered to change normally, it was one of those days. He rolled through the door to the office, retrieving the spray bottle from where he'd left it the day before. He left the shears to lie there, since he'd just pruned the day before. His plants knew better than to do something as stupid as _develop growths_ overnight.  
  
He walked around the room, giving each plant its due attention, looming over each of them in turn. Some of them didn't need to be watered every day. Those ones, he would only inspect. It was a very thorough inspection, though. He always turned over every single leaf... some of them twice, if he suspected he hadn't looked closely enough. This was to check for spots and other abnormalities, and he'd often have to bark at them to stay still. Of course, most of the time, that only made the shakes worse.  
  
He watered the ones that needed it, a bit soothed by the sound of the trigger pulling and the water spraying out. He still didn't know what it was about all of this that could help level him out, in all but the worst of circumstances, but it was also one of those things that he didn't want to look too closely at, for fear that it would stop working.  
  
Once he'd finished that duty for the day, he returned the plant mister to its place, and went outside to have a quick smoke. He was coming back in soon after, as it was still chilly. Crowley didn't do chilly. He hated it when the temperature dipped down under a certain range, and he hated it even more right now when he didn't have Aziraphale to help keep him warm.  
  
That was a brand new thing he'd have, actually. Something he only could've dreamed about before now.  
  
On second thought, maybe the cold season wouldn't be so bad, after all. But right now it still sucked.  
  
He huffed out a truncated sigh, pacing around the front part of the flat for a moment before catching himself in the act and sitting down on the sofa. He couldn't force himself to sit still for long, though. His legs started to bounce, and before too long he was back on his feet, shuffling about the room, picking things up at random to return them to their proper places.  
  
That was how it started, as innocently as that. Before he knew it, he'd gone to the closet and pulled out nearly every solvent, powder, and soap he had in the flat.  
  
He pulled a pair of long gloves on, consciously committing to it, and with that, he put his head down and started to clean.  
  
When he _finally_ came up for air again, and once more became fully aware of his surroundings, he noticed that it was dark outside, and upon investigation it seemed that it had been for a while.   
  
Looking around, he realized that he'd gotten quite a lot accomplished. The sitting area was spotless and arranged just so, the windows in his cone of vision were just about _sparkling_, a peek down the hall told him that he'd been cleaning the floors at some point... they were polished to practically a mirror shine.  
  
He turned his attention to finishing up his current project, which had apparently been wiping down the kitchen top to bottom, cleaned _himself_ up a bit, and then put on some night clothes (the long way this time) and got in the bed (whose sheets he had also apparently changed) to wait.  
  
He didn't have long to wait, though. Just long enough to pick up his phone and feel a pang of guilt while he was scrolling through several text updates that he'd missed throughout the afternoon with his head completely immersed in his cleaning. It was just little things; stuff he'd seen and deemed worth mentioning, items on auction and otherwise... when he was having a meal, and what he was eating, but Crowley still felt bad. He'd promised to reply, no matter what the subject matter was, and he hadn't done it today.  
  
He hadn't done it on purpose, and Aziraphale surely wasn't going to hold it against him, but it still hurt his heart a bit.

It seemed he was still carrying around that nasty habit of doing things that would come back to bite him.  
  
When the phone rang, it was much later than it had been the night before. Of course, Crowley hadn't even noticed the time until Aziraphale mentioned it. "Since you seem to have mostly recovered from yesterday's interruption of your schedule, I thought it would be more helpful if I called you close to your normal bedtime tonight." He said.  
  
It was a sound idea, since that was the original reason why Crowley had directly asked for these calls. He wanted to talk to Aziraphale before he went to sleep, to drift off with the angel's voice still ringing in his ears.  
  
"You kept busy today?"  
  
Crowley was 100% sure he was alluding to the fact that he hadn't replied to any of his messages. "Yeah. Sorry I didn't get back to you." He said, through the knot in his stomach. He hadn't meant to ignore him, he would never do that on purpose. It had been an unintended side effect of leaving his phone in the bedroom. "Didn't have my phone on me."  
  
"Oh, that's alright, sweetest. I'd figured you'd found something to occupy your time with. You needn't worry about it. How are you feeling?"  
  
Crowley's fingers drummed against the bed. The gentle reassurance had put him at ease as far as the issue of the replies went, but he was still a bit unsettled otherwise. "Been really restless, if I'm honest. This is the first time I've been able to sit still all day." And even then he was sort of still doing a piss poor job of it, he couldn't help but thinking.  
  
"Oh? What did you get up to, then?"  
  
"Little bit of plant stuff... gotta do that every day, though." He said, slipping one of his arms under the pillow. "Dunno, but I think I cleaned almost the entire flat, too."  
  
"You _think_ you did?"  
  
"Mm. Yeah. Went a bit mad. I remember dragging everything out, but I've honestly got no idea what I did in particular. Next thing I knew it was night." He admitted, picking at the edge of his phone case. "Been antsy as Hell every second I've been aware of myself today. Brain just kinda shut off while I cleaned."  
  
"Hm."   
  
"Felt nice, honestly, n' I got a lot done. Seems like, anyway."  
  
"Even so, it doesn't seem to me like such a state would be very conducive to sleep." Crowley heard a familiar type of creaking sound in the background, alerting him to the fact that Aziraphale was lying in his hotel bed while he talked to him tonight. "Stop me if this is a silly idea, but... perhaps tonight I can sing to you, to help calm you into a drift."  
  
Crowley paused, unsure if he'd heard that right. He couldn't really remember a time he'd ever heard Aziraphale sing. "Wait. You wanna... sing a lullaby to me?" He'd heard him hum a tune plenty of times, but no full on singing. It was possible he was joking, he supposed...   
  
"Of sorts. I have a particular song in mind that I could sing for you, in any case. Would you be amenable to that, dear?"  
  
Crowley's heart throbbed painfully in his chest. _Fuck_, the idea of that was too adorable for words. "I guess? Didn't know you liked to sing."  
  
Aziraphale hummed to himself. "Well, I don't have the world's best singing voice, but I enjoy doing it as much as most would, I suppose." He laughed. "Tell me, love, do you know about Winnie the Pooh?"  
  
Aziraphale seemed determined to repeatedly throw him off at the moment. "Uh..." He knew _of_ the character, but nothing beyond his name and what he looked like. "Not really. I mean... I've seen him, but that's about it."  
  
"I see. I just thought you might, you know... due to your time nannying."  
  
Crowley wondered if Aziraphale could feel his flat look through the phone. "I was teaching him _demonic_ things, Angel. Not about a sweet little yellow bear. That would've been _your_ area."  
  
Aziraphale's expression changed into something that was suspiciously close to a pout. "But I was the _gardener._ It would have made much more sense for a nanny to have--" He stopped, sighed, and shook his head. He couldn't truly argue when he knew Crowley was right.   
  
Perhaps under different circumstances, Warlock's childhood would have been filled with more Winnie the Pooh and less 'blood and brains'. There couldn't have been any extra good thrown in from Crowley's side of the equation, nor any bastard thrown in from his side. They'd both had to play their roles completely straight, or the perfect balance they worked so hard to achieve would be thrown off, and the whole thing would have fallen apart. Or so it had been while they still believed they had the correct child. _"Anyway_, he's originally from a series of old books. Not old to us, of course, but old to the humans. They were published about a century ago, at this point."  
  
"Uh-huh..."  
  
"I enjoyed them quite a bit, from the very first time I read them. I have them memorized, actually."  
  
Crowley's eyebrow quirked up. "Didn't know your thing for books included children's books."  
  
Aziraphale huffed. "It doesn't. I just like these in particular. It's why I've never maintained a children's section. I try to do my utmost to discourage the presence of children in the shop. I don't _hate_ them, necessarily. It's just that they're messy, noisy things, even more so than matured humans. I don't need them around my books."  
  
Crowley smiled to himself at how much that last part of it sounded like it belonged in some sort of interstellar nature documentary. "Understandable."  
  
"I've always liked Pooh bear, though. He's quite a relatable creature. For me, anyway." Aziraphale chuckled.   
  
"How?"  
  
"He's soft, for a start."  
  
They both laughed at that one.  
  
"S'pose he would be. He's a teddy bear, yeah?" Crowley hummed, rolling over and tapping his phone to wake up the screen so he could look at the photo of Aziraphale on it while he talked to him. "Being soft isn't a bad thing, though. One of my favorite things about you."  
  
"Well, aren't you sweet."  
  
"The sweetest. Thought you knew it by now! Been calling me that for ages already." Crowley grinned, and it came though in his voice. "It's true, though. I like you soft."  
  
Neither of them were totally sure if they were talking physically or emotionally at this point, but in either case, the answer was the same.  
  
"I'm glad you do, love. I'm not so certain that I could realistically be anything else."   
  
Crowley could hear his smile through the phone, and it pushed a wistful little sigh out of him. "Don't want you to be." He said, definitively, and slid his thumb over the photo fondly. "Are you gonna tell me what's up with this Pooh talk?"  
  
He suppressed the infantile urge to laugh at the way that sounded.  
  
"Oh." Aziraphale said, in a tone that told Crowley he hadn't realized his own lack of explanation. "Today I managed to pick up a couple of things. Among them was a complete set of signed first editions, which is why it's on my mind in the first place."  
  
Suddenly, it made more sense, and it wasn't _quite_ so random, but there was one connection that Crowley still wasn't getting. "But what does a set of books have to do with singing?"  
  
"Well, they've been putting him into an animated form for a few decades, and since I enjoyed the books so much, I watched the compilation film when it came out in the 70s. There's an endearing theme song that goes along with this charming little bear. I thought it may help to lull you, since it's an awfully whimsical sounding thing."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"You have to promise not to make fun of me, though." Crowley could practically see him fidgeting as he said so.  
  
"I wouldn't do that."  
  
They'd certainly have their good-natured little sparring matches where they'd tease each other, needle each other about things they'd done in the past, mostly, but he doubted if either had it in them to seriously insult the other one. They'd never really had that kind of relationship, even at the worst moments.  
  
Aziraphale made a tiny sound of apology. "I know. It's just a tad embarrassing, you understand."  
  
Crowley rolled over onto his back, bending his legs and placing his phone in the crease of them, looking at the photo again, as if he were looking at Aziraphale in person. "You don't have to do it, Angel."  
  
The photo instantly answered back with "I want to."  
  
There was a bit of stubbornness and offense mixed into his tone, and it made Crowley laugh. "Well, if that's the case, have at it."  
  
"Alright, then. Here I go."  
  
He drank some water for good measure, to make sure his throat was moistened, and then he took a breath and started to sing.  
  
_Deep in The Hundred Acre Wood_  
_Where Christopher Robin plays_  
_You'll find the enchanted neighborhood _  
_Of Christopher's childhood days_  
  
His voice was soft, and he sang slowly, deliberately. The song certainly had that lullaby quality to it, or at least it did with the way Aziraphale was delivering it. Though he wasn't entirely sure it was supposed to sound _quite_ like this, either way Crowley was enraptured immediately. Aziraphale had been selling himself short, when it came to talking about his ability level as a singer. Sure, he was no Freddie Mercury, but he was still perfectly pleasing to listen to, and not solely due to the fact that Crowley had a horrible bias.  
  
_A donkey named Eeyore is his friend_  
_And Kanga and little Roo_  
_There's Rabbit, there's Piglet, and there's Owl_  
_But most of all Winnie the Pooh_  
  
The demon smiled, feeling a wave of affection rise in his heart. He was happy, genuinely, that Aziraphale had decided to do this for him. Not just because of the vulnerability that was clearly on display here, but also because the song itself was everything Aziraphale said it would be. It was whimsical, and it felt nostalgic somehow, even though he'd never heard it before in his life. It felt like being covered in a soft blanket, or sinking into the warm embrace of his angel's arms. Fitting.  
  
_Winnie the Pooh_  
_Winnie the Pooh_  
_Chubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff_  
_He's Winnie the Pooh_  
_Winnie the Pooh_  
_Willy nilly silly old bear_  
  
The line was silent for a while, once he'd finished, and it gave Aziraphale just enough time to get self conscious. The flush had spread from his ears, over his face, and down to his neck in record time. It had him covering his face with his hands even though he knew Crowley couldn't see him. "Oh, dear. I--"  
  
A light thump came through the phone, when he was mid-sentence, and then Crowley spoke. "Angel, shut up." He said, and the suddenness of it had him doing just that. Well, that and the fact that Crowley sounded strange, distant. It distracted him immediately.  
  
Then he let out a low whine, and Aziraphale understood precisely why he'd sounded that way; it had been the effort. That thump had been him putting a pillow over his face. The silence had been him trying to hold the sound back, but he ultimately ended up losing control over it. 

The wave had crashed down on him.  
  
"Don't even think about being embarrassed. You're so fucking _cute_. I can't _stand_ you." Crowley said, throwing the pillow aside again and restlessly rolling over on the bed a couple of times, sending the phone falling down off its resting place and onto the mattress. The only thing that would make this worse was if he saw Aziraphale in his glasses. Just _thinking_ about that was bad enough right now, but actually seeing it? He would be totally gone if that happened. It would take him out for sure. His fingers clenched and practically _ached_ in want of burying themselves into Aziraphale's soft, warm skin. They took a tight grip on the smooth, clean sheet under him instead, as he curled around the device. "Fuck, Angel. I love you."  
  
This reaction was potent, much stronger and more dramatic than it probably should've been. He hadn't pined this hard in quite a while, hadn't had a reason to, and it was having a noticeable effect on him. It seemed he'd started to lose his tolerance for it pretty rapidly, spending so much time fully submerged in the affection he'd been chasing for thousands of years.  
  
It was sort of like he was going through withdrawals now, or operating on a lack of vitamin Aziraphale. Whichever way it was spun, he was dealing with it, and he would live, but it would be a lie to say it wasn't a little tough on him.  
  
"Now, which is it? Can you not stand me, or do you love me?" Aziraphale teased, and Crowley _also_ ached to feel those soft but sure hands running through his hair and down his back, like they normally would be after a joke like that. "I love you too, Crowley. Always. So very much."  
  
The gentle yet strong declaration washed over him, and it was like a balm for his aches. In those words, he heard the promise; when Aziraphale came back home, he was going to show him his love. His grand plans were probably already in the process of being crafted, even though it had technically only been a day since they'd last seen each other.  
  
Once the extreme rush of adoration and energy had subsided, tiredness crashed down onto Crowley suddenly. "Can't wait 'til the end of the week." He said, sleepily.  
  
"Me either, dear."  
  
Aziraphale continued speaking to him softly for a while, mostly about nothing, for the sake of lulling him to rest... and it worked. He bid his demon good night, and within the next few seconds Crowley was out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote almost all of this Friday afternoon. For once I didn't even have a scrap of anything ready to expand upon... I only knew I wanted this one to be a Crowley chapter.
> 
> And then I happened to see a fan question to Neil Gaiman cross my dash on tumblr, (I'm [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/) btw) the answer of which included the fact that Aziraphale has the Winnie the Pooh books memorized. Things devolved from there. They exploded out onto the page, if you will.
> 
> And yes, _I_ am dying from cuteness overload too. 😂


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aziraphale had called to tell him good night both nights, but it had finally reached the point that Crowley wasn't satisfied with the wait. It took three days for him to break down and make the call himself, which might have been more credit than he'd have given himself at the start of all this. It was at least a couple of hours earlier than he was sure Aziraphale had been planning to call him, but it was still plenty late enough that he knew the other would be in his room for the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one needed a bit more time to bake in the edit because I had a couple of decisions to make so I'm late  
But I have here a gift of pure porn  
That seed I planted like 500 years ago has finally sprouted... in other words here's a phone sex chapter lmfao

Crowley was putting in all the effort he had.  
  
The third day brought with it a near constant string of texts exchanged, ever since he'd gotten up. There had only been a handful of pauses; when Aziraphale needed to concentrate on his auctions, during his lunch, and during his dinner. Otherwise, they were talking.  
  
It made the demon feel a lot better about what had happened the day before.  
  
Aziraphale had called to tell him good night both nights, but it had finally reached the point that Crowley wasn't satisfied with the wait. It took three days for him to break down and make the call himself, which might have been more credit than he'd have given himself at the start of all this. It was at least a couple of hours earlier than he was sure Aziraphale had been planning to call him, but it was still plenty late enough that he knew the other would be in his room for the night.  
  
_Beep beep._  
  
_Beep beep._  
  
_Click._  
  
"Hello, dear."  
  
Just hearing his voice was enough to take Crowley down about two notches. As much of a drop as was needed to bring him into the headspace of a normal conversation.  
  
"Hi. You weren't... busy, were you?"  
  
"Goodness, no. I'd just been... well, honestly, I was watching a bit of telly to pass the time."  
  
Crowley was taken aback by that revelation. "Oh... really?"  
  
"Yes. You know, I've heard them complain, before. They always say things like 'there's nothing to watch'. I must say, I agree. All of it is quite vapid."  
  
Crowley laughed. "That's modern telly for you. They hide the good stuff on the premium channels you gotta pay extra for. Or you can use, like... Netflix. 'M guessing your hotel doesn't have those fancy TVs with built in access to that stuff."  
  
"Even if it did, you know I wouldn't know the first thing about getting into it." Aziraphale hummed, tucking the phone between his chin and shoulder and reaching over to pluck one of the books up from the stack in his bag, jolting a quick miracle into it to repair its weakened binding. He'd been meaning to do that as well, at some point this evening.  
  
The casual vibe of the conversation lulled Crowley into feeling like he could be bold, and now seemed like as good a time as any to risk it. "Hey, so... I wanna ask you something."  
  
"Hm? What is it, dear?"  
  
"What are you wearing, Angel?" Crowley teased, injecting just a touch of seduction into his voice. He couldn't resist this particular joke.  
  
The change in tone drew Aziraphale's attention immediately, and his cheeks turned pink on the other end of the line, the intended goal. "Oh, you wicked thing." He laughed. He wasn't as familiar with the prevalence of that particular type of chat up line in human media, but he could at least suss out the implication of it.  
  
_"Your_ wicked thing." Crowley corrected, rolling over onto his side as he stared at the darkened screen. "I miss you." He said, getting straight into the meat of it. He'd said so multiple times already, of course, but it hadn't sounded quite like this before.  
  
"I miss you, too."  
  
"How's the auction going?"  
  
Aziraphale looked down at the ever growing pile beside him. "Quite well, thank you. As I was telling you yesterday, I've picked up a few things so far. I got two more decent acquisitions today. It sort of feels like cheating when I can outbid them with no effort, but what can one do?"  
  
Crowley laughed. "This is exactly what I mean when I say you're a bastard."  
  
"Just enough of one to be worth knowing, of course."  
  
Without knowing it, Crowley gave a smile that mirrored Aziraphale's. "Of course."  
  
"And how are _you_ doing, my love?" He asked, placing the book back into the bag and closing it up again.  
  
"Not much to say, really. Pretty quiet over here. 'S cold, though."  
  
"Poor thing. Get some cocoa, it'll fix you up."  
  
Crowley snorted. _Only thing that'd fix me up right now is you_. He couldn't help thinking. "Been a bit lonely, too."  
  
"Do you--"  
  
"_No._" He said, firmly, shutting that down before Aziraphale even had a chance to fully vocalize it. "Talking to you helps, 'n you've been doing what I asked."  
  
"Of course I have, dear. It's likely that I would've done the same, even if you _hadn't_ asked." Aziraphale leaned back against the headboard of his bed. "I do apologize for my ineptitude when it comes to the text messages and such."  
  
Crowley had to laugh at that. "You're getting better all the time, though." He looked to his right, to a smoothed mass of gray fabric, and remembered something else he'd wanted to say. "Wanted to tell you... thanks."  
  
"Hm? What for?"  
  
_Everything_. He wanted to say, but decided to break it down to the immediate subject.  
  
"Well, for... doing that for me last night, first off. The song, 'n stuff. Helped me sleep better. But... the weighted blanket, too. Finally took it out today, and it's been helping." He told him, honestly, reaching over to stroke the soft cover. "Doesn't trick me into thinking you're here, or anything, but it makes me feel a tiny bit less lonely."  
  
"Oh, I'm glad to hear that, dearest."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Try sleeping with it tonight, see how it treats you."  
  
Crowley smiled. "Was thinking I'd do that anyway. Now I've definitely gotta, huh? Doctor's orders." He laughed. "Been lazing around today, and I laid under it most of the time. 'Course, I'd much rather lay with you."  
  
"Before you know it, I'll be back home. Just a couple more days, now."  
  
"Believe me, I know. 'M counting down the minutes."  
  
"Naturally."  
  
The line was silent for just long enough that Crowley wondered if the call had dropped. He picked up his phone to wake up the screen, and the timer was still ticking. He'd drawn in a breath to say something, but whatever it was never made it out.  
  
When Aziraphale spoke, the reason for the dip was clear. "So... what are you wearing, my dear?"  
  
Crowley choked on that breath. The only thing that managed to squeak its way out was his usual verbal tic. "Ngk."  
  
"Is that too strong?" He'd thought it alright, since Crowley had teased him with that earlier... but the response had him thinking that perhaps this was one of those things his demon could dish out, but not take.  
  
"No!" Crowley's cheeks got warmer at the haste and enthusiasm of his own response. "I mean... no." He tried again, playing at calm this time, even though it was a lost cause. _"Fuck_..." The change of subject had just been very abrupt, and it had surprised him. It had also surprised him how quickly Aziraphale had picked up on the use of that phrase. He was getting better at these things all the time.  
  
"Oh. Good." There was a little sigh on the other end of the line. Definitely one of relief. "Can you possibly... answer the question, then? Paint me a picture."  
  
"Um. Well... right now I've got on... those..." Crowley trailed off as he looked down, not realizing the truth of the matter until it was too late. He'd already started speaking.  
  
Aziraphale didn't let him slither away. "Those?"  
  
"Those... pyjama bottoms you got for me."  
  
Crowley could just about _hear_ Aziraphale's face brightening on the other end of the call as he realized. "The red tartan ones?"  
  
For a moment he considered not answering, but he knew that would basically be the same as an admission, so he thought he might as well _actually_ admit it. "Mmf. Yeah."  
  
_"Oh_, Crowley."  
  
Crowley pulled the blanket (one of the normal ones, he didn't need the weighted one while talking to Aziraphale) up over his head, hiding himself as if Aziraphale could see him. "Like I said, 's cold. Don't have you here to keep me warm. They're thick and kinda fuzzy. They'll do for now."  
  
Aziraphale smiled at his attempts at floundering for an excuse. "And, as it's cold, are you wearing a top?"  
  
Another pause. "Yeah."  
  
"Which?"  
  
"Um."  
  
Aziraphale waited patiently. He was already finding that he rather enjoyed the fresh thrill of this, and he didn't want to push Crowley's buttons too much and cause him to need to stop. He _would_ in an instant, of course, if it came down that way, but he hoped to be able to keep his demon on the good side of that line.  
  
He could hear Crowley swallow on the other end of the call, right before he poked his head out and answered. "Your, uh... your gray jumper."  
  
This time Crowley was absolutely _certain_ that the flutter he felt in his chest was due to something Aziraphale was sending through the phone.  
  
He wasn't _entirely_ wrong.  
  
The answer had practically slayed Aziraphale; each syllable cut right through him, straight to his heart, and love was spilling out of him through the hole they'd left behind, he could feel it. It had knocked the wind out of him and made him quite glad that he'd already been sitting down. The mental image of Crowley wearing his clothes was so outstandingly endearing that he could barely take it.  
  
But then... he realized with a sudden clarity that it didn't have to remain just that, a mental image. "May I see?"  
  
Crowley swallowed again, reflexively. "Mm?"  
  
"Will you... take a photo for me?"  
  
The demon almost whined from the high rush of endearment he felt toward Aziraphale, and an equal desire to please him. "Yeah, just... gimme a sec."  
  
He peeled the blanket back, arranging himself on the bed. His heart was pounding as he raised his arm, stretching up as high as he could so that Aziraphale could see both pieces of clothing.  
  
He sent the photo, then heard the chirp through the line when Aziraphale received it.  
  
"Oh, goodness. Aren't you a sight."  
  
The adoration in his voice made Crowley's face heat, but he didn't say anything.  
  
"Hmm... but, now that I think of it, there _is_ something wrong with this, though."  
  
Crowley frowned, and he opened the photo back up. After a sweep over it, he was just puzzled. He didn't see whatever it was that was the problem. "What?"  
  
"You're wearing too much, I think." came the simple answer, and knocked him off base again.  
  
_Oh. Duh._ He thought, but, again, all that actually came out was "Ngk."  
  
"As much as I hate to ask, when it's such a rare treat for me to get you into some tartan... would you remove your bottoms for me?"  
  
Crowley shrugged. "Well, I was planning to do that anyway, eventually."  
  
Aziraphale hastened to speak up again, after. "And, keep the... jumper on, though. For now." He said, clearing his throat in the middle.  
  
"Um. Okay."  
  
"And, ah... if it's not too much to ask of you, could you... possibly take another photo for me, once you're like that?"  
  
"Yeah... yeah, Angel. I will. Hold on."  
  
More rustling sounds echoed from the background, and he heard the bed dip when Crowley got back into it. He raised his phone and repeated the same process again, including as much of himself as he could in the shot, and then he took it and sent it. "There." He announced, setting the phone aside again.  
  
After a short delay, he got his response.  
  
_"Oh_, you are so _lovely_, my dear. Thank you." Aziraphale sighed. If he thought he hadn't been able to stop looking at the first photo... well, the new one was out of this world, compared to that.   
  
A very flushed Crowley was lying on Aziraphale's side of the bed, judging by the fact that he could see the edge of the side table in the background, and he had his right arm draped over his chest, showing off Aziraphale's ring on his pinky. The gold signet was a brilliant contrast against the dull gray of the oversized jumper he was wearing, which hung low on his body, showing off his collarbone, and, upon further inspection... also had an obvious bump in it near the bottom edge, betraying just how much Crowley was enjoying himself.  
  
Truly, what an amazing gift it was, to get to see Crowley in nothing but one of _his_ shirts. Frankly, it was _doing things_ to him.  
  
What he wouldn't give to be in Mayfair right now, running his hands over those gorgeous bare thighs... or pushing his fingers under the fabric, touching Crowley's warm skin beneath the jumper that he absolutely would not let him take off just yet.  
  
He might even insist that Crowley not take it off at all, upon further reflection.  
  
He briefly considered using a miracle to transport himself back to London so they could have some fun together in person, but quickly thought better of it. All of this theater and anticipation was part of the deal, after all. It was going to make his reunion with Crowley at the end of the week all the sweeter. That was also most of the reason why he hadn't popped home at night to stay with Crowley while he slept.  
  
'Absence makes the heart grow fonder', and all that.  
  
Aziraphale licked his suddenly too dry lips. He'd been operating under the assumption that they were building up toward something like... _that_, but he realized he still needed to confirm. "Did you want to... do the... the thing you mentioned, with the video?"  
  
As he had on the other occasions he'd mentioned this, he sounded shy, and a shy Aziraphale was not something Crowley got very often at all these days. He would definitely have to savor it. "Well, I, uh... I didn't actually show you how to use FaceTime yet. It'd probably take a while to try to explain over the phone. So... maybe this time, we could do it the old fashioned way. With just the sound? Is that okay with you?"  
  
Aziraphale had long since known how to do a proper web search, but he still liked to defer to Crowley when it came to teaching him a brand new concept, because of that uncanny ability he had to make things understandable.  
  
"You _do_ know 'old fashioned' is my area. And anyway, all indication seems to say that I like that idea just fine."  
  
The implication behind his words had Crowley's mouth going dry. _"Holy shit_, Angel."  
  
Aziraphale snorted. "Well, what? Are you actually surprised that I'd have a reaction to this risqué photo? I'd thought that was rather the point of my asking for it in the first place. Or... perhaps, for some reason, you thought you liked the sound of my voice, but it didn't go the other way around?" He laughed. "I've watched you do this enough that I can fumble my way through. Of course, it may be that what _you_ like isn't what _I_ like, but... I'll figure that bit out as I go."  
  
Crowley's head stopped spinning at all of the information long enough to catch on that last part. "Have you not...?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Holy fuck. _Seriously?_"  
  
"Seriously." Aziraphale huffed, amused. "I haven't really had an urge, if I'm honest, but... after you told me your idea about this kind of thing, I decided I would definitely hold back and save my first one for that, even if I did." Something in his tone of voice told Crowley that if there was a cord on that phone, he'd be twisting it around his finger like he did the one in his bookshop.  
  
"You fucking _kill_ me." Crowley groaned, pulling the jumper up over his head to toss it over to the chair. The last step was rather easy, and reaching it found him getting comfortable and settling deep into the pillow, running his hand over his now bare stomach, tantalizingly close to his ultimate goal. So close he could feel the heat radiating from there.  
  
"Crowley, the... the jumper?"  
  
Crowley grinned, at what he interpreted as just the typical fussiness. "'M naked now, Angel. Don't worry about your jumper."  
  
"Ah. Right." As much as he _very much_ enjoyed a completely bare Crowley, he couldn't help but deflate a bit at the news that he'd taken the top off. The disappointment didn't come through in his voice, and he _almost_ let the subject drop there, which he would've gotten away with... but he really couldn't resist saying more. "But... I wasn't going to ask you to take it off, just so you know."  
  
"You weren't?"  
  
"No, dear. Not in the slightest." He found that he didn't really have the words to explain why, but the idea of Crowley making a mess of it in that manner wasn't unpleasant to him. Crowley's come on his jumper was an _entirely different_ animal than that blue paint on his coat. Or it felt like, at any rate. Besides that, like the coat, it could always be cleaned, miraculously or otherwise. "If you had soiled it, it would have been my fault, anyway." As somewhat of an afterthought, he added "I hope you won't get too cold. Perhaps you should turn up the thermostat, love."  
  
Crowley smiled at his consideration, nuzzling his face into the pillow where the other's scent still lingered, ingrained deep down in the threads. Even when he'd been in that trance, cleaning, he'd been conscious enough to leave it alone. "Don't think that's gonna be a problem, once we get started."  
  
"Fair point."  
  
"Hey, uh... by the way, before we go too far into it, is it alright if I get a bit... y'know, vulgar? Or should I try to hold it?" He hadn't -- so far, at least -- had to consciously try to hold back like that, but he knew this was going to get intense for him, and they'd made a sort of pact to keep that kind of stuff saved for the characters they would play.  
  
He could just about hear Aziraphale's smile, and _definitely_ could once he started to talk. "You're always _at least_ a _bit_ vulgar, at minimum." Correctly picturing Crowley's exaggerated expression of offense, he laughed. "But, no, I think it's perfectly reasonable for your words to go slightly colorful in this instance, sweetest."  
  
Crowley tried to control the volume of the relieved sound he uttered once he was given that permission, but didn't manage as well as he'd wanted. He wasn't quite sure he could rein himself in, and having this bit of assurance that he didn't necessarily have to was probably going to be helpful.  
  
With that taken care of, he reached down and took himself into a slightly shaky hand, eager to get started. "Mm, Angel..."  
  
"Oh." He said, but not in a sexy way, more of a 'oh, we're doing this _now_' way. Then there was a bit of rustling through the phone, followed by silence. Crowley was able to tell when Aziraphale had caught up to him, only because he gave a pleased little hum. Such an innocuous sound normally wouldn't have phased Crowley too much, but the knowledge of what had produced it was too much for it not to get to him this time.  
  
The mental image of Aziraphale splayed over a hotel bed, bottoms pushed down and cock in hand... well, that was just about astonishing to him, actually.  
  
Using that as a springboard, his mind wandered to thoughts of how empty he'd been all week. He was very aware of the negative space inside him. "Miss your cock." He blurted, already breaking into that vulgar territory.  
  
_"Do you_, now?"  
  
Crowley swallowed thickly. Well, he'd said it, and now he had to own it. It wasn't like it was untrue, anyway. He pressed his thumb firmly into the ridge of the head, biting his lip while he rubbed over it and letting a little moan slip through. "Mm-hmm. Love how you feel in me. I ever tell you? Should've, if I haven't."  
  
Aziraphale was unable to help a low rumble of laughter. "You might have mentioned it." He said, stroking himself in a loose fist as he recalled.  
  
"What d'you... reckon you'd be doing, if you were home?"  
  
"I expect at this point I'd be in the midst of making love to you."  
  
Crowley huffed out a laugh at the straightforward answer, despite himself. "Specifics, Angel."  
  
"Oh." He laughed, too. "Well... I suspect I would lay you out on your back. I know you love feeling me on top of you."  
  
"I do." Aziraphale could hear the 'go on' in his tone.  
  
"I would spread your legs apart and put myself between them... all while properly tending to those gorgeous thighs of yours. I would spend some real time on them, and touch them like they deserve to be touched."  
  
Crowley's only response this time was a sharp intake of breath.  
  
"And then, my darling, I would get in place and enter you. I would inch my way inside of you, and then I'd stay there a while, pressed all the way in, just like you love most." A bit lost in his fantasy, Aziraphale tightened his hand around his cock, as tight as he could get it and still move, in his best approximation of how Crowley would feel around him. It didn't compare, of course, but had his breath coming a tiny bit faster anyway.  
  
Crowley sighed, letting his eyes roll back as he imagined it, pressing his head down into the pillow more firmly. "I just want this goddamned week to be over already. Fuck."  
  
"When I come home, I shall absolutely _cherish_ you, sweetest. I will _worship_ you. There won't be a single _atom_ of you that's left unloved."  
  
Crowley shuddered, and felt his cock jump in his hand at very idea of that promise, and a little bit at the blasphemy involved in its making. "What... what parts of me do you love most, d'you think?" He asked, in attempt to distract himself so he wouldn't get lost in it and reach his end way too early.  
  
He was pleased when Aziraphale eagerly took the bait. "Oh, let's see. Your beautiful face, for a start. You know I can never keep my hands off of it for very long. Or my lips, for that matter. I simply _adore_ how you react when I stroke your cheek... or hold your head still and shower you with kisses."  
  
"I like that too. God, you always make me feel so damned warm inside. Should be a crime."  
  
Aziraphale made an indiscernible kind of noise in response to that. "If it were a crime, I'd need to be locked up forever. I don't intend on ever stopping." He said, lowly, and it hit Crowley the same way it would if he'd been there, whispering it directly into his ear.  
  
Crowley sunk into that tingle in his spine. "Mm... 's good. Don't want you to."  
  
"I'd find myself in need of a rescue, in that case. Do you think you're up to that task, darling?"  
  
His voice was more than a little seductive, this time, and it pulled Crowley right in.  
  
"Been a while. I'm rusty, but I'd make it happen. Y'know, I might get off on saving you just as much as you get off on putting yourself in those situations to begin with."  
  
Aziraphale gave a breathy laugh. "It's an easy habit to fall into when you have such a handsome savior."  
  
"You're just too pretty to leave alone, Angel. All your fault."  
  
"Flatterer."  
  
"I try."  
  
Aziraphale tried to center himself and focus, and mostly managed, though it was difficult when his hips were pressing forward so insistently after that part of the conversation. They'd found that particular subject to be one of his hot spots, after all. "But... back to your parts, now." His phrasing made Crowley grin, through everything. "You still want to hear about that, don't you? I'm sure you do, you lovely thing. You love it when I tell you your good points." He hummed. "You know I love your arms, too. I couldn't explain why, precisely, but it's a fact. I want to touch them and kiss them all over, on sight."  
  
Some part of Crowley suddenly regretted the fact he hadn't rolled up his sleeves for at least one of those photos, but he had plenty of time to flash his arms at Aziraphale after he came back to London, he supposed.  
  
"And, I must say... that second photo that you sent to me? It has me appreciating your thighs more than I think I ever have before. They look exquisite."  
  
"...yeah?" It occurred to him, even through the haze, that would've been where that bit about his thighs had come from, then.  
  
Aziraphale bit his lip, letting go temporarily to press his palm flat against his shaft, sliding his hand down so he could touch his balls a little too. "Mm-hmm. I can't help but wonder, my love... would you like it if I marked you there?"  
  
The surprised wheeze that came from Crowley answered the question before he could.  
  
Aziraphale's chuckle had more than a tinge of desire in it, at this point. "That's a yes." It was more statement than question, simply because he could already tell.  
  
"Uh... uh-huh." Crowley whined, confirming it, pressing the meat of his palm up against his shaft, grinding up against his hand. "Fuck, I bet that'd feel so good..."  
  
Now that Aziraphale thought of it, it felt like he'd gained a decent bit of ground without realizing. That was... _damn_ nearby to a place that Crowley had previously told him in no uncertain terms that his mouth was _not_ to go. And of course, it still wouldn't.   
  
It never would, unless Crowley said so, and _meant_ it.  
  
But... that he'd allow him to get that close, even if it was (so far) a hypothetical... that spoke volumes of his trust in Aziraphale.   
  
The unbidden pride that rose in his chest at that thought had him gripping onto himself a bit harder. "Mm... and, what else would you like me to do?"  
  
Immediately, Crowley's mind went where it always did, and that made his ears burn. "Well, y'gotta come in me. 'S just not right... if you don't do that." His voice dropped down more and more as the remark went on, but he was confident Aziraphale had still heard him.  
  
He did, and he smiled. This in particular was one of Crowley's soft spots. He always got sort of embarrassed over it, and that was horribly charming to the angel. "Of course, darling. You do so enjoy it when you're full of me."  
  
Suddenly there was a scorching heat in Crowley's entire face, brought on by having it pointed out so directly, but he couldn't even begin to deny it as a fact. "I do. Holy shit, I _do_. Y'leave me all messy and it feels so fucking good." He tossed his head to the side, rolling his hips up harder toward his hand. "Need it. Gotta know how good _you_ feel, too." He dimly realized that he had finally betrayed the other part of his reasoning, out loud, but he didn't care.  
  
For Aziraphale's part, it made him practically quake with affection. _"Nothing_ compares to how you make me feel, Crowley. I'll gladly show you, any time." His silky voice slid down Crowley's every vertebrae in its turn, and he instinctively knew that the promise those words carried was completely true.  
  
He almost couldn't take it.  
  
"Jesus fuck, Angel." Crowley panted. "'M close."  
  
"Me too." The angel admitted, and Crowley listened intently to get the sound of his quick breaths. "My dear... call for me when you come, won't you? Since I can't see you, it would be a blessing for me if I could hear you give my name from those beautiful lips of yours when you spill over."  
  
Crowley gasped, eagerly nodding his head even though he knew Aziraphale couldn't see him. "Yes. _Yes_. Fuck yes, I will." Feeling bold, he added "I want that from you, too."  
  
"You'll get it. I'll give it to you." He all but purred, and Crowley was done for right then and there.  
  
Something about hearing those words, 'I'll give it to you', hit like a sledgehammer to that last unstable wall blocking him from release. It crumbled easily and succumbed to the flood.  
  
"Ah, _fuck_... A-Aziraphale!" Crowley all but shouted as he arched up off the bed, fucking his fist with abandon as he came, marking his own torso with it from top to bottom. He almost swore he felt a bit of it hit his chin, even.  
  
When he fell back down, he felt absolutely _wrecked_, but in such a good way.  
  
There was a call of his own name, from the other end of the line, much huskier than it had any right to be, and it pulled a ragged exhale out of the very depths of him.  
  
This was as satisfied as he thought he could get, at the moment.  
  
His eyes closed, and he was lost in the black for a while, listening to the harmonies the sounds of their breathing made, until they'd both calmed down again.  
  
"...love?"   
  
His eyes opened, and he looked over at the phone. "Hm?"  
  
"Will you let me see you _now?_ I'd like to lay eyes on the state you've ended up in, if that's alright."  
  
Crowley drew in a sharp breath, and he could've sworn he felt a phantom twitch between his legs. "Oh, fuck..."  
  
"Is it too much for you, dear?"  
  
The demon shook his head, but laid very still otherwise, afraid to move too much and aggravate this frisson of new arousal that was threatening to take hold. "No. _God_, no. 'S just..."  
  
"Just _what?"_  
  
_Bastard_ was the only word to come to Crowley's mind, but fuck, he did enjoy it when Aziraphale let his bastard side through from time to time. He secretly loved it when Aziraphale would needle him and push him into saying the things that he instinctively held back. It was a possibility that enjoying it had even changed his thought patterns, really. He was definitely far less afraid to be open with the angel than he used to be, and yet this habit persisted.

Still, Aziraphale must have somehow been able to tell he was more or less alright, if the teasing lilt in his voice was anything to go by. He wouldn't have done that if he was in any doubt at all.  
  
"Y'can't do this to me when I've only _just_ come. You asking me for that is extremely fucking _hot_. Jesus bloody Christ." Crowley hissed, reaching with his clean hand to grab the phone, using his Fall given flexibility to both stretch his arm and contort his body in such a way that he could center it in the frame, showcasing himself from his spent cock all the way up to his flushed face, and the milky flecks of his come that were splattered in between those two points. He took the photo and sent it off, hurrying to close the message window before he got too embarrassed and it threatened to overtake the pleasant warmth that had spread over him.  
  
There was a slight delay, but he was able to tell the moment Aziraphale opened the photo. He'd offered a little gasp, then made a much lower toned sound that was _definitely_ not quite angelic. It was the kind of sound that said he was going to need another go if he let himself linger on it for too long. It would've withered Crowley and knocked him down for sure if he wasn't already flat on his back. As it was, _he_ had to work hard to keep the sound itself from playing in his head on repeat. It would be his undoing if left to its own devices. _"Oh_. Crowley, you look so _ruined_. Devastatingly gorgeous. You're a proper work of art, you know. Leonardo should have painted you."  
  
Crowley's shoulders pressed into the bed as he took in the praise, attempting to trap the warmth and tingling sensation there and not let it fade. "Like this? Don't think erotic art was quite his bag. Know he liked cock, but..."  
  
Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh, hearing that cheeky grin in Crowley's tone. "No, not _exactly_ like this. I rather think I'd like this _particular_ view to remain mine, if you don't mind. But... in general. Clothed, and done up, he definitely should have painted you. Your painting would have rivaled the Mona Lisa, certainly."  
  
Almost as an afterthought, Crowley finally banished the mess from his flushed skin. "Maybe to _you_."  
  
"Oh, _definitely_ to me. But, what need do I have of a piece like that, when I hold in my hands the fortune of keeping the genuine article? No painting could compare to the beauty of you as a living, breathing thing, my love."  
  
Crowley's heart thumped so hard that he was almost convinced it was trying to just straight up come out of his body. "Jesus Christ. You'd think you were trying to woo me all over again."  
  
"Humans do say you should never stop trying to court your partner. Perhaps I've learned a thing or two from them."  
  
Crowley was in awe of him, but he also got it, in a way. "I'd never be the one to say going native's a bad thing." He rolled over and pulled the weighted blanket on top of him with a thump, knowing he wasn't far off from ending his day.  
  
"Darling, I have an idea I'd like to run by you. Perhaps you'd call it an experiment. Of course, do feel free to opt out... it's just something I find that I'm curious about."  
  
Crowley's head tilted with his own curiosity. "What is it?"  
  
"I'd like for you to refrain from touching yourself again until I come home. Can you do that for me, my dear?"  
  
Despite the typical post-coital sleepiness that was settling in on him, Crowley's heart beat a little faster at that. "Yeah."  
  
It was a trial, in a couple of different ways. First of all, he simply wanted to see what kind of a state that doing this would put Crowley into. It was only a request put in place for the final couple of days, so he was certain the demon could handle it... but he also knew how needy Crowley could be, so the test in that case wasn't if he would make it through, it was to see precisely _how_ randy this was going to be able to make him in that amount of time.  
  
It was _also_ meant to test the waters of something entirely different, that they'd so far only lightly discussed. He was flexing his muscles a bit, seeing this opportunity to test his willingness to ask Crowley to do something, _and_ Crowley's willingness to follow through. There were still things to be done before an actual first step could potentially be taken, but he wanted to see how each of them would take to the concept in general.   
  
Though a long term request like this was likely to be a one off, and not the kind of thing he would be utilizing in actual practice, he thought that this was still probably an excellent simulation of what it would be like, should they ultimately decide to take that type of dynamic on in any capacity... the thought of being strictly authoritative and barking orders at Crowley wasn't _at all_ appealing to him, and though he didn't know any other details about what such an arrangement would be like for them, he _did_ know he wasn't going to approach it like that. But... asking something of him like this; gently guiding him, and having him eagerly do as he was asked... _that **was**_ an idea he thought he could get along with.  
  
"Alright." He finally said.  
  
He waited a moment, and there was no response.  
  
"Crowley?"  
  
From out of the silence, a very light snore echoed, just loud enough to be heard.  
  
It caught Aziraphale off guard and almost made him _laugh_, but he contained himself, holding it at least until he'd ended the call. He didn't want to wake Crowley. He smiled fondly to himself, thinking about the picture Crowley must be, freshly satisfied, knocked out, and curled up around his phone. "Good night, my sweet. I love you." He whispered, stroking his fingers down the surface of the phone in the hopes that at least the sentiment would go through and stay with Crowley as he slept.  
  
And then he hung up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yells at the top of my lungs about CROWLEY IN AZIRAPHALE'S CLOTHES  
Admittedly I sometimes fantasize about people drawing me fanart (which I think is likely to never happen unless I go out of my way to commission someone bc I am not in that tier of writers but a person can dream 😂) and I think that part has just hopped its way right on up to the top of the list of things I wish people would draw lmfao
> 
> Also! As there's a lot happening and it's super rough out there for everyone rn I just wanted to say if anyone is lonely or just wants somebody to talk to in general, as always, you can hit me up [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com/)! My messages are open to everyone :)


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The weather had broken, and it finally warmed up a bit, making it bearable to be outside for the first time that week, as Crowley had discovered when he'd gone onto the balcony for his morning smoke. 
> 
> So, currently he was in St. James's, leaning over the rail and tossing out the rest of the food he'd brought to the ducks. He'd been there a little while, hanging out by the pond, also discreetly miracling the batches of bread that people threw into proper duck food as it hit the water.

_'I'd like for you to refrain from touching yourself again until I come home. Can you do that for me, my dear?'  
_  
_'Yeah.'  
_  
The exchange echoed in Crowley's head again, for probably about the 500th time, and again he groaned. _Why_ had he done this to himself?   
  
Well... he supposed that at the time he must've thought, with his sleep addled brain, that it might be fun. It still was, to an extent... he was very much anticipating the things they were going to get up to once the angel returned from his trip.  
  
But mostly, for now, it was torture. Not at all aided by said thoughts of 'things'.  
  
It had driven him so mad, in fact, that he'd had to actually leave the flat. None of the usual distractions were cutting it, and the one that he needed most right now was roped off, under a thick glass case with a big do not touch sign placed on it.   
  
That was some _extremely_ ironic imagery.  
  
The weather had broken, and it finally warmed up a bit, making it bearable to be outside for the first time that week, as Crowley had discovered when he'd gone onto the balcony for his morning smoke.   
  
So, currently he was in St. James's, leaning over the rail and tossing out the rest of the food he'd brought to the ducks. He'd been there a little while, hanging out by the pond, also discreetly miracling the batches of bread that people threw into proper duck food as it hit the water.  
  
It wasn't the same to be there by himself, but he reckoned it would be pretty easy to get Aziraphale to come out with him. It always had been, anyway. Of all the meeting spots they'd used over the millennia, this one was definitely the standout.  
  
He thought they could do with making some better memories there.  
  
Once he'd run out of duck food, he moved away from the pond and settled himself on a bench. Out of habit, he sat on the left side of it.  
  
That only made him feel Aziraphale's absence more, though.  
  
And thinking about Aziraphale again was his first mistake.   
  
It started off perfectly innocent - they were here, on the bench, hands clasped and holding each other by the pinky finger as they watched the world go by - but his thoughts didn't stay in that pillow soft land for very long, and quickly turned into something hungrier.  
  
Some part of him was still a bit hesitant to acknowledge that he was allowed to take such an active stance on sex now; that he was allowed to want it as often as he did, or think about it that much, either, due to how things were for him before Aziraphale.  
  
But, of course, now that he wasn't _supposed_ to be thinking about matters of physicality - now that he should be avoiding it, to mitigate his frustration as much as possible - it was all he _could_ think about. The _one time_ he might have been able to spin its assertion into something positive, that stupid part of him was taking a holiday or a convenient nap, he wasn't sure which.  
  
He could practically _feel_ Aziraphale's fingers skirting across the back of his neck, and up into the patch of cropped hair, then turning his head. Those soft lips kissing him.  
  
Before he knew it, the vision of himself he saw in his mind had climbed into Aziraphale's lap, and he was riding him, wanton and uncaring, giving and taking pleasure, right there on that same bench in the middle of the park. Nobody could see them, of course, but still, they were fucking right out in the open...  
  
He came to with a start, realized he'd gone hard and had started to press his hips down to try and rock against the slats underneath him, distracted and desperate for some friction, with his bottom lip pinched between his teeth.  
  
He leapt up instantaneously, like his arse had been burnt, and made a decision, very suddenly, to go to the zoo. He had grasped at the first idea of a distraction he could think of, and that was what he'd come up with while rushing back to the Bentley.  
  
Being in the state he was in at the moment didn't seem to have any adverse effects on his driving, which was interesting information... but considering that he drove sort of like a maniac anyway, that wasn't saying much.  
  
He parked near the back of the lot, away from everyone else, taking some time to center himself and breathe, eventually getting back to a relatively normal state of being. With a heavy sigh, he got out of the car and put the keys in his jacket pocket, shutting the door behind him. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and then finally started to walk toward the main entrance. This zoo had little turnstile gates, which he hopped clean over with one hand placed firmly on the ticket scanning half of one.  
  
Being by himself, he had no need to stop and do things the proper way. It had been a little while since he'd done anything even vaguely like mischief, short of teasing Aziraphale in bed, and it felt good.  
No one could see him, anyway. No one even knew he was there. There was no harm done.  
  
That was the way he'd always preferred his mischief, after all.  
  
He knew he hadn't time to see the whole zoo, since it was already sort of late in the afternoon, so he decided to just pick one area to thoroughly explore, and something drew him toward the corner where the animals from the African continent were kept.  
  
When he came upon the zebras, with their horse-like bodies, it only made him think of the last unicorn, which caused him to get a bit sad. Soon after that incident, he'd found out why they'd needed two... he hadn't actually realized what all of that very specific preparation was about, at the time.  
  
If he'd known, he would've gotten it back for them, or tried.  
  
Making it onto the Ark hadn't been the blessing it was supposed to be, for the one they kept. The poor thing had died without its mate, and he could relate to that particular type of anguish, as there was a point at which it really looked like he was heading for a similar fate.  
  
Thankfully, in his case, that hadn't come to pass.  
  
He skipped right over the reptile house. Something about that idea skeeved him out, and he also had this one, tiny, paranoid part of him that was afraid he might accidentally shapeshift and end up stuck in a cage. He still had the ability to change his form, but hadn't done a full shift since Eden.   
  
In fact, the only _partial_ shift he could directly recall doing was that one in the courtyard of the old hospital... his head had been spinning, trying to figure out the situation, so he'd been a bit panicked, and had also lost his temper, which was a deadly combination in somebody like Crowley to begin with, let alone with the addition of that one certain element; Aziraphale. His berserk button. Simply put, he'd been freaked out, a touch pissed off, and instinctively defending him from a perceived threat when he let his form warp that time.   
  
He'd been able to successfully pass it off as an intentional bit of fun, with a convincing grin... it was in keeping with the rest of the mischief he'd gotten up to while they were there, so he was almost certain Aziraphale never suspected a thing.   
  
Admittedly, it was fun to wreak that havoc at the time - he'd enjoyed blowing off some steam that way, venting the stress from the impending apocalypse - but still.  
  
In some cases, it would have been pretty useful to actually change over... but he'd always been afraid he wouldn't be able to go back, that he'd forget how to change back. He was quite attached to his human body, in general, and, these days... the ways he could use it to love Aziraphale, especially.  
  
Thinking about the other made him smile this time as he stopped to watch the giraffes a while.   
  
It seemed like his thoughts always managed to find some path back to his angel eventually, and at least for the moment, they were sedate.  
  
Come to think of it, he wasn't actually sure if Aziraphale had ever been to a zoo. They'd never gone _together_, but there were plenty of things that Aziraphale had done without him, over the centuries, so... maybe he'd ask. Either way, it seemed to him that this could prove a nice idea for a date. He made a mental note regarding it.  
  
And then he suddenly found himself standing face to face with a giraffe as it leaned over the railing for a pat and an attempt at wrangling some food; both of which he graciously gave the gentle creature, running his hand over the length of its snout and holding out a summoned branch full of leaves for its trouble.   
  
In the back of his head he was also wondering what kind of drugs the Almighty must have been taking when She came up with the idea for the design of this animal. Not for the first time, either.  
  
The giraffe apparently decided it liked him, perhaps finding him worthy for his generous offering of leaves, and hung around for a bit. After a moment he decided he'd like to take a photo for Aziraphale, so he did just that. He switched to the front facing camera and raised his phone, and apparently this particular giraffe had figured out what that meant, because it leaned forward just that little bit more to rest its chin on his shoulder.  
  
Aside from the Ark's unicorn, Crowley never really felt like he'd bonded with any individual animal, but the rush of affection he felt was unmistakable here. He gave the giraffe another stroke along its cheek, quickly snapping a few photos. He smiled to himself, turning back around to offer another branch, and one last pat, before saying goodbye to his new friend.  
  
As he was walking to the next exhibit, he spent a moment picking the best photo of the bunch, and then sent it off to Aziraphale once he was satisfied with his choice.  
  
_What d'you think Angel_  
_Can we keep him_ 🙏  
  
A couple of minutes later, he received a response.  
  
**Angel**💞✨  
Oh, I do suppose, as long as you promise to feed him, my dear. Actually, while I'm at it, you must promise to deal with the end result of that feeding, as well. Don't you dare expect me to shovel those droppings!  
  
Crowley grinned so wide it threatened to split his face. To his great credit, Aziraphale was learning to go along with his jokes quite well. It was like the message was voice enabled, too. He could practically hear how Aziraphale's voice would sound while he said this.  
  
His phone buzzed again in his hand, startling him into almost dropping it, but he recovered quickly and held it steady to read the new message.  
  
**Angel**💞✨  
But... really, I do have to say that it does my heart good to see that you're moving about a bit. You haven't been going out much since everything happened.  
  
Crowley stopped. It had escaped his notice before this moment, but it suddenly hit him that he really hadn't. Not that he'd honestly been a social butterfly before all that; he'd always sort of preferred to stay in, but... it had become extreme. It turned him into more or less a hermit. He'd gone out to plenty of places with Aziraphale, but this was actually the first time he could remember going out by himself in a while.  
  
_Got a bit stir crazy is all  
_  
He sent the message, then put his phone back away. It wasn't like that was a lie, and he was sure Aziraphale knew that the request he'd made of him would have some sort of effect.  
  
He wasn't sure if either of them knew quite how hard or fast it would hit him.  
  
He shoved his desire down again and tried to put it out of his mind as he walked through the observation deck overlooking the open space where the lions were lazing about.  
  
And then his phone went off again, prompting him to take it back out of his pocket.  
**  
Angel**💞✨  
Oh, of that I have no doubt. In any case, the fresh air is good for you, love. This little jaunt of yours has also allowed me to lay eyes on this precious photo of you, so it's really a win-win situation.  
  
Crowley stared at the phone, narrowing his eyes at the first sentence. The rest of the message was cute, but he was stuck on that. Once more, the word _bastard_ jumped to the forefront, and he found himself with his attempts to ignore it all dashed. If Aziraphale had said this out loud, it would definitely have been with that teasing edge to his voice that he'd sprinkled in toward the end of their call the night before.  
  
It was one of the last things Crowley remembered, actually, before he'd apparently passed out. At least that was the inference he'd formed when he'd woken up in the morning, still naked, under the weighted blanket with his arm curled protectively around his phone.  
  
Everything in between was sort of a fuzzy mess - he'd gotten very sleepy very quickly after he'd come - but he did remember that... _and_ agreeing to this whole denial thing in the first place. He doubted if he'd have been able to forget something like that.  
  
That brief moment of considering it sort of made him wonder where all of this had come from in the first place. How had Aziraphale come up with it?  
  
Maybe he'd been doing more reading up than Crowley thought he had.  
  
Either way, he couldn't help but feel sort of excited at the idea that they might get to explore something totally new together, something that they both apparently had at least a slight interest in. It was quite an enchanting thought for the obvious reason, but also due to the fact that newness was always a novel concept to a pair of beings that had been on Earth since the beginning of time.  
_  
What are you into today then_  
**  
Angel**💞✨  
Nothing much to say, I'm afraid. It's just more of the same. If I were to be completely honest, it's starting to become slightly tiresome by this point.  
  
This sort of felt like it could be bait, but if it was, Crowley wasn't taking it.  
_  
Hang in there Angel  
_  
_It's almost over for the day  
_  
_You've got this_ 💕

He must have still been looking at his phone, because the reply was immediate.  
**  
Angel**💞✨  
Your words give me the strength I need to carry on, my love. Thank you.  
  
Crowley snorted. He was sure that Aziraphale somehow simultaneously meant this both ways it could be read, sincerely and sarcastically.  
_  
Any time_  
  
He let the conversation drop there, figuring Aziraphale needed to concentrate since evidence seemed to indicate he was attending the auction at the moment. He hadn't bothered to show up to any of the bidding wars unless he actually wanted an item, after the first day.  
  
That was sort of a shame, because Crowley had an inkling that even book nerds could stir up some juicy drama as they fought over their treasures. He thought he'd have loved to hear about it.  
  
Crowley stayed at the zoo for another hour, or maybe two, he wasn't sure, just strolling around, looking at the exhibits. Apparently, they'd moved the elephants up to the Whipsnade zoo at the beginning of the century, and that was why he hadn't seen any. He thought Aziraphale would like to see them, and considered taking him there instead, but quickly realized that then he wouldn't be able to meet their new pet giraffe.  
  
He laughed as he thought of it, couldn't help himself.   
  
There was plenty of opportunity, and he could take him to both. That was the luxury of them, they had time.  
  
Day turned to night on his drive home, and he watched the sunset through the Bentley's windscreen, wondering if Aziraphale was looking at it too, out the window of his hotel room. His photo of the sunrise popped back into Crowley's mind then, and made him grin like an idiot while he rode the lift back up to their flat.  
  
Feeling fairly calm for the moment, he went through the motions of what had become his ritual over the length of the week; he changed into his sleeping clothes, plopped down on the bed, and waited for Aziraphale's call.  
  
"Good evening, love. How was your day out?"  
  
"Was fun."  
  
"I'm glad to hear that. It certainly looked like you were enjoying yourself."  
  
"Yeah." Crowley looked up at the ceiling above their bed, attempting to split his concentration so he wouldn't hyperfixate on the sound of Aziraphale's voice in his heightened state. "So... listen. You ever been to a zoo?"  
  
"Can't recall. I don't think so, though. Not unless you count the time I spent on the Ark. You did call it a travelling zoo."  
  
Crowley laughed. "Uh-uh. That definitely doesn't count."  
  
"Well... no, then. Why do you ask?"  
  
"Dunno. Just... thought you might like to go, sometime. With me."  
  
Aziraphale gave a truncated laugh. "Anthony J. Crowley, if you're going to ask me on a date, do it properly."  
  
Something about his current situation colored the joke slightly. "Ngk." He flushed, swallowed, then opened his mouth to try again. "I wanna go to the zoo together. I think you'd have a good time. Want to?"  
  
"Well, now. That's better." The pleased tone in his voice just about gutted Crowley. "I'd love to."  
  
"Fuck..." Crowley hissed, under his breath, suddenly thinking that maybe this _particular_ call wasn't such a good idea. "Mmf. So... yeah. We'll go, after you come back. We'll talk about schedule then. Sound good?"  
  
"Yes, I believe it does."  
  
Crowley sighed, unable to stop himself from saying "I can't wait to see you."  
  
"Oh, I know."  
  
Crowley bit his bottom lip, hard. _For fuck's sake_. He didn't actually know if Aziraphale was actively _trying_ to do this, but it was driving him mad.

"I think it goes without saying I'm very much looking forward to it as well."

The more they talked, the murkier his intentions seemed to get. "Listen... 'm feeling... kinda sleepy." Crowley said, trying to force that thing his voice did when he'd just woken up, adding in a yawn for effect. "Might have to cut this one a bit short."  
  
It was a lie, of course, but he hoped it wasn't _too_ blatant.  
  
"You poor thing. Worn out, hm?" Aziraphale either hadn't noticed his feint or had merely decided not to call attention to it.  
  
"Yeah. Had a day."  
  
"Well, I'll let you go, then. Perhaps this is a bit selfish to say, but I hope you'll sleep with thoughts of me. I'm coming back to you soon, my darling."  
  
Crowley let out the deep breath he'd been holding without realizing. "Bet I will." Whether he wanted to or not, he had to guess. "Night, Angel. Love you."  
  
"Good night, dear. I love you, too. Sleep well."  
  
The call ended there, and after what felt like a good hour of willing himself to calm back down, the demon finally drifted off into an uneasy rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My potato internet (it is a 2mb connection that actually runs more like 1mb if that tells you guys ANYTHING) decided it didn't want to work before I went to bed last night, so we're a bit late, but we deal!  
I started writing this chapter way before quarantines and lockdowns were becoming a major thing so it's sort of ironic that it's seeing a release in these times
> 
> I personally am still able to go out as normal since my work is considered essential (I do receiving at a big box hardware store), but I recognize that this is not the norm rn! My heart goes out to everyone who's lost their job, and I so appreciate all the service workers out there every day keeping things going! For those who are stuck inside, maybe you'll be able to live vicariously through Crowley and his zoo trip!
> 
> And perhaps take a bit of sadistic joy in his frustration if that's your thing lmfao  
He'll be getting fixed up soon enough ;)
> 
> I hope everyone is well! I'm going to try to do my best to keep things on track through the duration of this whole crisis so I can hopefully do my part to keep people entertained 🙏


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's rise took place at a reasonable hour for once. Not too early, not too late.
> 
> He'd stretched awake in bed (which was actually significant since he had spent some time on the ceiling whilst trying to will himself to drift off), dimly realizing he was still wearing Aziraphale's cream colored cardigan (putting it on had been the ticket to finally getting him to sleep), and pulled it in tight around him, nuzzling into the soft fabric to draw in the scent of him. He tried his best to ignore that little unbidden stir he felt in his lower body as he did. Aziraphale would be home, soon enough, and finally the torment would be over.
> 
> He thought so, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is long as f u c k and anybody that's read the whole fic should know what that means~  
Enjoy :P

Crowley's rise took place at a reasonable hour for once. Not too early, not too late.  
  
He'd stretched awake in bed (which was actually significant since he had spent some time on the ceiling whilst trying to will himself to drift off), dimly realizing he was still wearing Aziraphale's cream colored cardigan (putting it on had been the ticket to finally getting him to sleep), and pulled it in tight around him, nuzzling into the soft fabric to draw in the scent of him. He tried his best to ignore that little unbidden stir he felt in his lower body as he did. Aziraphale would be home, soon enough, and finally the torment would be over.  
  
He thought so, anyway.  
  
After he'd had his smoke and tended to the plants, he settled in the office for a few hours, lounging in his throne while he binge watched the back half of the second season of The Good Place... a TV show he'd just recently bothered to learn the name of, because he'd been trying so hard to pretend he didn't like it.  
  
He probably still wouldn't admit it out loud.  
  
As the last episode's credit roll started, he sat up properly and got to his feet, intent on grabbing a drink. Alcoholic or not, he hadn't quite decided yet. He'd make that choice once he got to the kitchen, he reckoned.  
  
He was on his way down the hall when it happened.  
  
The front door opened suddenly, with a slight jerk, and Crowley froze in his tracks.  
  
Thankfully, he only had a second to fear before it swung fully open to reveal Aziraphale. He was in the hall, holding his bag in one hand while the other one fumbled with the key, trying to extract it from the doorknob. "Oh, confound it! Give me the key back, please."  
  
It somehow registered that Aziraphale was in front of him, unannounced, nicely asking the doorknob to release the key he'd stuck into it. It was utterly fucking ridiculous, but Crowley thought he had never been more in love.  
  
In fact, even with all that aside, Crowley's heart absolutely soared at the mere sight of him. He physically jolted when Aziraphale actually looked up, realizing he was there, and they made eye contact for the first time.  
  
And then, the instant Aziraphale actually _stepped through_ the door, closing it behind him, attraction hit Crowley like a missile to the chest. It was like his mere presence had sucked all the oxygen from the room, and Crowley had forgotten that he didn't need to breathe, again.  
  
Other than the obvious dip and subsequent rise of Aziraphale's gaze, taking in the sight of his cardigan on Crowley's body, neither of them moved or spoke for a long moment.  
  
Crowley was stuck to the spot he stood in.  
  
It was because he was waiting for Aziraphale to make a move first... but he was also having an internal battle against that one tiny, _stupid_, anxious part of him that he hadn't quite conquered yet; the one that couldn't immediately accept this good thing on face value as real.  
  
Was this a sort of nasty form of wishful thinking?  
  
Aziraphale noticed this dilemma, of course. It was woven into the way Crowley was looking at him. It was no matter to him, though; he would gladly take the lead and chase it away. He was all too eager to hold Crowley again anyway, on his own merits. He set his bag down on the floor, then crossed the room to go to Crowley. "Come here, sweetheart." He said, and gathered him up into his arms to press him into his chest in a tight hug. "I'm home."  
  
Crowley kept it together until that exact moment. All he had been able to actually think about since Aziraphale appeared in front of him was how much he wanted to climb him like a fucking tree, but that flew right out of his head when they touched.   
  
The instant he felt the gentle pressure of Aziraphale's hands, he swayed forward into him, legs giving out as he was drawn in close to be held. He was vehemently ignoring his 'excitement' so that he could soak himself in Aziraphale's warmth and affection, both things he had been missing terribly all week.   
  
He'd managed to squeeze some of that out of the phone calls, but it hadn't been enough. It was nothing compared to having him there in person, where he could feel him. "Welcome back, Angel." He said, muffled by the depth at which his face was pressed into the other, but still audible.  
  
"I'm glad to _be_ back, love." He easily picked Crowley up, holding him steadily in the crook of his arm, cradling him so he could kiss the top of his head. "I missed you so much."  
  
"Feeling's mutual." Crowley grumbled, digging his fingers tightly into Aziraphale's back, pressing up toward him. Finally, he was home. He was there, and Crowley could touch him again. He had no words that could accurately describe how that felt.  
  
"I'm sorry I frightened you, dear. I only wanted to surprise you." Aziraphale said, leaning back so he could look Crowley in the face. "Are you alright?"  
  
"Well, _y'did_ surprise me." He laughed, despite himself. "'M fine. Just thought you weren't coming back til later."  
  
"I took a look at the auction schedule, and there wasn't anything on it that interested me past the morning, so I got hold of that one last thing, then hatched my scheme to come back to you." His fingers brushed over the outside of Crowley's leg. "I thought you'd probably be happy to see me as soon as possible, and I felt the same."  
  
Crowley nuzzled into him even closer at that. "I love you."  
  
Even with his face buried, Crowley could feel Aziraphale beaming at him. "I love you, too." He responded, holding Crowley another moment before setting him back down onto his feet again. "I know it's still a _bit_ early, but how about dinner?"  
  
Now that he mentioned it, Crowley noticed the smell of curry, and glanced over to find another, very familiar looking bag (that he didn't see before), set on the floor next to Aziraphale's luggage. "You didn't!"  
  
"I did. I thought you might enjoy sharing a meal."  
  
The intent of this was clearly twofold - to have some quality time together after the time apart, and, perhaps more importantly, giving Crowley an opportunity to feast in a totally different way, on the sights and sounds of Aziraphale eating - and Crowley all but melted. "Yes. Oh Angel, _please_. I want to."  
  
"Properly. Go and sit at the table, won't you?"  
  
Crowley swallowed, then nodded and proceeded to go in and take his seat. There was this tiny part of him that had sprung up, over the last day or two... it quivered and fawned each time Aziraphale said something to him that could even _vaguely_ be construed as a command.   
  
He knew well that these things _weren't_ commands... he wasn't even sure if that would be something Aziraphale would be into doing outside of specific situations within the walls of their bedroom, and he hadn't thought about that part of it _himself_, either, to be fair. They'd yet to have any real discussions about any of that, and Aziraphale was all about being thorough to a fault, so he was certain they would be coming. But, nevertheless, it had been poking the part of him that was eager to please.  
  
He thought, not for the first time in the past couple of days, that perhaps he was better suited to all of that than he'd initially figured.  
  
Aziraphale appeared in Crowley's field of vision, sans jacket, and daintily settled himself into the chair next to him, then began to divvy up the contents of the bag.  
  
Now the demon's attention was on _him_, instead. Even for all the calmness he presented, Crowley could practically feel the Lust welling up inside of him, and it made his mouth water in anticipation. It wouldn't have surprised him if he genuinely _was_ feeling it... Aziraphale could feel his love now, after all, so it wouldn't be far-fetched to assume he could do the same thing on his end. He might've done at some point before... the state he was in at the moment meant that he couldn't exactly access a whole lot of his brain.  
  
They would do this dance; this familiar little thing, fueling both of them up for what was obviously going to come later.  
  
The sexual tension at that table as they ate their dinner weighed in the tons, even if they both pretended not to notice it for the time being.   
  
One look at either of them; Aziraphale, sat primly in his chair, presenting an artificially inflated air of calm, and Crowley, in his typical pose, fist clenched hard against the tablecloth, would've told even a complete stranger precisely one thing - that they were _definitely_ going to fuck before the night was up.  
  
They shared the typical casual conversation they would have over a meal. Crowley asked about his journey back, and Aziraphale in turn asked about how Crowley had spent his day so far. It was really nothing special, except for the fact that they were _extra_ smitten with each other after their time apart. Nothing could cover up those besotted glances.  
  
At some point while they chatted, Aziraphale's hand settled on his knee, and the feel of that little bit of weight and pressure stole most of Crowley's concentration away for the remainder of their meal. He remained in his right mind _just enough_ to keep his eyes on Aziraphale through to the last crumb, gorging on the sight and shifting his weight from side to side every once in a while, attempting to alleviate some of that pressure between his legs.  
  
The _instant_ he'd finished eating, Aziraphale's hand made a move to slide up to Crowley's thigh, but then he abruptly removed it. "Oh, silly me. I almost forgot." He said, suddenly, and stood. Then he was drawing away, beckoning Crowley to follow him back into the front room.  
  
Crowley was briefly stunned motionless, but then he did, and watched him curiously from behind as he rummaged in his bag.  
  
"I brought you these, too." He said, and then he turned around, brandishing a bouquet of vibrant red roses.  
  
Instantly, any irritation he may have been feeling at being left high and dry at the table like that had evaporated. The wave of love that overcame him nearly made Crowley pass out on the spot, in fact. It almost felt like a miracle that he'd managed to stay standing.   
  
He took the offered bundle, holding it carefully to the side so that it wouldn't get crushed when he pressed his body to Aziraphale, his empty hand moving to hold the angel's head still as he finally moved in for the kiss his lips had been craving ever since he came through the door. "Thank you." He said, releasing the words between their mouths before actually joining them together.  
  
It quickly escalated from the touch of lips it started as. He licked his way into Aziraphale's mouth, kissing him with great fervor, and soon enough he was clawing at any part of him he could get his free hand on.  
  
One of Aziraphale's arms wrapped around his back, moving him in closer with a strong pull, and the other one maneuvered a hand into his hair. It was touching his head with a solid pressure, pushing him in toward the kiss... just like he'd been imagining when he'd been in the park, and that sent a spike of pleasure right through him.  
  
Crowley lost himself in it, and he was unsure of how long it lasted. When they broke, each panting for breath, he looked at Aziraphale with eyes that were nothing short of openly burning, dropping the (suddenly unwrapped) bunch of flowers into a waiting vase for later appreciation. "Bed." was all he said, but Aziraphale didn't need anything more to handily scoop him up and carry him off to the bedroom.  
  
He placed Crowley on the mattress, but stayed standing a moment, shedding his waistcoat and draping it over the chair, also using that time to let Crowley choose the position he wanted to shift into. He ended up scooting backwards to sit with his back against the headboard. Aziraphale let him finish moving, then climbed up to him, bracketing his lover's legs with his own and sitting on his haunches over him.  
  
It was only then that he noticed there was something new on the side table, and that stole his attention.  
  
"What's this...?"  
  
Although he already had an inkling of what Aziraphale meant, Crowley's eyes followed the trail to the object of his interest anyway. "'S an African Violet. Gonna be, anyway. Doesn't look like much right now, but it's yours. Just got to the point I could put it in a pot. I wanted to... grow something just for you. Been working on it for a bit, actually. Thought it'd be nice."  
  
Aziraphale felt a puddle of love form in his chest. "Oh, Crowley." He smiled, plucking up the baby plant by the bottom of its pot to examine it. "What's it doing in here?"  
  
"Well... I have to care for it. Couldn't let the other ones see me being soft, and... I can't just shout at something like this."  
  
The implication that sat there... the singular, obvious reason _why_ he couldn't treat it like his other plants simply sent that puddle growing inside Aziraphale, and made him feel even softer. "I love it, dear. Thank you. I can't wait to see what you make of it." He said, setting the pot back into its proper place before returning his attention to Crowley, cupping his face between his hands and leaning in to gently bring their mouths together again.  
  
After a moment, he pulled away again, resting his forehead against Crowley's. "Darling, did I ever tell you how fetching you are in light colors? It's such a rare sight, but that makes me appreciate it even more." He placed his hands lightly on Crowley's shoulders, letting his fingers rub over the soft fibers. "When you showed up to the bookshop to collect me before Warlock's birthday party, in that white jacket, I really didn't know what to do with myself. It's a wonder I kept my composure that well."  
  
Crowley's heart pounded in his ears. He hadn't realized Aziraphale had been looking at him that way even before his Effort. He'd apparently been physically attracted to Crowley long before the idea of sex had actually entered his mind, and _fuck_ was that idea making his blood run extra hot. "Ought to thank the Dowlings for hiring that specific catering company, then."  
  
"I suppose you're right." Aziraphale chuckled. "It does seem _a bit_ daft, upon reflection, for a caterer to wear white. That's just about asking for trouble, isn't it? And you didn't fit in at all, with your jacket buttoned..."  
  
He'd looked downright silly, actually, but it had just pulled at Aziraphale's heartstrings even harder.  
  
Crowley spluttered. "Well, what about you? You were wearing black..." The memory of it sent another spark down through Crowley's abdomen. He felt the same way about seeing Aziraphale in an unusual state as the angel did about him.  
  
Aziraphale's expression shifted to one of false offense. "I needed to, for the look of a proper magician." He saw the face Crowley made at that, and ignored it. "Did you like that?"  
  
"Mm-hmm. Fake 'stache and all." Crowley grinned. "I like you in anything, though. And out." He drawled, leaning up enough to steal another kiss.  
  
"Obviously, I feel the same. I do think I like it even better when it's _my_ clothes you're wearing, though." Aziraphale sighed dreamily. "You don't know what that does to me." This habit that Crowley had picked up - seemingly out of nowhere - was really rather lovely in his view. _He_ didn't even know what it did to him, until two short days ago, but here he was now. He smiled at the thought, gently pushing his cardigan from Crowley's shoulders and letting it drop to pool behind him.  
  
"But, now... I promised to _worship_ you, my heart, and that is _precisely_ what I'm going to do."  
  
It hit Crowley dead on, and suddenly he couldn't find it in him at all to be upset at the idea that they were setting him up for more waiting. Aziraphale had sent many words straight to his groin during their endeavors, but - so far, at least - none had hit quite as hard as this sentence had. He was so aroused now that he thought if he moved the wrong way his dick might snap in half.  
  
"If you would be a dear and lie the rest of the way down for me, that would be brilliant. I should like to be able to appreciate all of you."  
  
Crowley did so like his life depended on it. There were no words to describe how much he had been looking forward to this, since Aziraphale had first mentioned it.  
  
But, as he actually moved in... another, very different desire took over, and Crowley wiggled under him. "Angel... Angel, hold on."  
  
Aziraphale leaned back, to look him in the eye. "What is it, love?"  
  
"Wanna look at you. Just stay there a minute, will you? You're fucking beautiful, 'n I haven't gotten to see you all week. I need to see you."  
  
"Oh, dear. " A gorgeous flush crept its way into Aziraphale's cheeks and spread into his nose, too. "Of course."  
  
As he was bidden, he sat up properly again, then didn't move again for a long time. He stayed there, over Crowley, watching as his demon's gaze traveled in a slow path from the top of his head and all the way down, stopping to linger on his eyes, lips, and, of course, his very center.  
  
Crowley announced his completion status with a sigh, draping one of his arms against his forehead. "So, so goddamn beautiful. I _really_ can't stand you, y'know?"  
  
"You say that you can't stand me quite often, but I think we both know it's not true, dear. You stand me very well, if I were to say." Aziraphale laughed. "I want to look at you, too. Let me see you, just a while. That's alright?" Crowley nodded, and it drew a smile out onto the angel's lips. "You're being so patient for me, love. Thank you."   
  
And so began Aziraphale's turn to look, eyes roaming the entire length of Crowley's body. His hands were there, occasionally offering a light touch, but not much else. More torture for Crowley, but he didn't hate it at all... _and_ he knew the payoff would be brilliant.  
  
Current events finally drew to a close when Crowley started to shift uncomfortably, once in a while, unable to sit still anymore.  
  
After the third time he did it, Aziraphale stilled, studying him. "You'd like me to begin now?" He guessed.  
  
Crowley looked relieved. "Mm-hmm. If you would."   
  
Aziraphale chuckled. "A simple 'get on with it' would've gotten the point across, darling."  
  
"Didn't mind _that_ much." He'd been alright with the proceedings and wasn't going to complain, but he really _was_ starting to crave some genuine touch.  
  
Aziraphale put a hand into his hair and started to pet him, and it had the paradoxical effect of calming him and ramping up his horniness at the same time. He felt the sensation slide down his spine and stop between his legs, pooling there. It made him think of that moment in the shower, the morning Aziraphale left, when he'd been so far gone that this fond touch was all it had taken to send him spiraling off the edge.  
  
It was giving him a run for his money _right now_ too, if he was being perfectly honest, but he would endure.  
  
Aziraphale spoke, and it drew his focus. "Dear, I think it's time I give you a treat. Don't you agree?"  
  
"...what d'you mean?" He'd thought the dinner and all that it represented had been a treat, honestly.  
  
"I can tell you've done what I asked. You wouldn't be this wound up if you'd been pleasured in the interim." Something about those words made the hairs on Crowley's arms go shooting right up. "I think I'd like to see you touch yourself a bit. Just _a bit_, now. I'm curious."  
  
Crowley somehow still managed to find his voice, through all that. "About... what?"  
  
"I want you to show me what you did to yourself while we were on the phone the other night."  
  
"Oh, Christ." Crowley swooned, only vaguely aware of Aziraphale's hand slipping down from the top of his head and into his own hand.  
  
"Is that alright?"  
  
"Yeah. _God_, yeah, but... really can't show you for long. I'll come." It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to come - he was, in fact, quite desperate to do so - but he didn't want to do it like this.  
  
"And you don't want that?" This was a leading question, something he was getting good at, and getting _especially_ good at knowing when he needed to use. It was an excellent tool for pulling information out of Crowley that he might not otherwise provide on his own.  
  
Crowley looked up at him timidly. "I do... not this way." He said, squeezing Aziraphale's hand. "I can wait - _will_ wait. Til we're, uh... together."  
  
The angel gave him a soft look. "Oh, Crowley. You know you don't have to do that."  
  
"Yeah. I do know, but I want to." It was there. Aziraphale was all but flat out saying 'you don't _have to_ wait anymore'... he was offering Crowley his avenue of relief, if he truly needed it, and yet he was still insisting. Maybe he was being overly sentimental, but he wanted to have that pleasure together with Aziraphale, not by himself. He had signed himself up for this, and he was going to see it through to that point. It was a self imposed addition to the rule, but one he intended to follow nonetheless.  
  
Aziraphale visibly softened even more, and he let it drop there, seemingly understanding Crowley's thought process. "Well... do you mind if I take your shirt off, dear?"  
  
Crowley gave him his best bedroom eyes. "'S gonna come off at some point. Now's good."  
  
Aziraphale laughed. "Alright." And there was no more said before he hooked his hands into the bottom of Crowley's tank top, peeling it up over his head.  
  
The demon took initiative for the second part, unbuttoning his jeans and pulling the zip down enough that he could shift and pull himself mostly free. Enough for his current purposes, anyway.  
  
He watched as Aziraphale's eyes went sharp, and that was all it took to encourage him to start that show his angel had asked for. He carefully curled his fingers around his cock, pressing his thumb into the same spot he'd lavished most of the attention on that night, albeit with a much lighter hand than he'd done then. The goal here was simply to demonstrate, after all. He didn't want to get too carried away.  
  
Even so, after a scant few seconds, it had him biting his lip, and it was all he could do to keep his hips still.  
  
"Oh... so _this_ is what you looked like, while I was talking you off?"  
  
Crowley wheezed, and taking that as the encouragement it was, he continued. "Your photos were simply _delectable_, my love, but I'm afraid it really doesn't compare to watching you in motion. I'll need you to show me how that video contraption works, in fairly short order." Aziraphale looked very much like he wanted to touch, too, but he was containing himself.  
  
"Ngk. O-Okay."  
  
"I'm sure you'd be more than happy to help me work out the frustration of my day, when I've had some difficult patrons... I could retire to the back room a while, and we could have a bit of a break together. Tell me, my love, would you like that?"  
  
"Yes... _yes_. Fuck, I would..."  
  
"Oh, I'm glad to hear that."  
  
Crowley uttered a string of consonants (not any of his usual ones, either), unable to form proper words, and that was the cue.  
  
Aziraphale leaned over him, peeling his eyes away from the lewd display to fix them on Crowley's face instead as he lightly touched his wrist in attempt to help him stay on his intended path. "Easy, now. It seems that's enough for the moment... unless you've changed your mind?"  
  
Crowley shook his head, and though it took some effort, he pulled his hand away. It had been a tantalizingly short touch, but it was also a relief to be stopped there, before he accidentally went too far.  
  
After that, he had no mind to do anything but feel what was being done to him. His ears were under attack first, hot and red as they were traced with a practiced tongue. Nips and nibbles were bestowed on that sharp jaw. A mark was sucked into his neck. Soft, gentle hands began to smooth over the entire length of his lanky torso.  
  
And then the angel's voice came to him, a low rumble against his skin. "You're so good. I'm never going to stop telling you. You give me all of yourself, so willingly, and I love you. _Oh_, my dearest, I _love_ you. I'm never going to stop telling you _that_, either. Never again. Nor will I **_ever_** stop doing it."  
  
Crowley gasped for breath, unbelievably turned on. Aziraphale was bathing him in his familiar, gentle heat, and it was driving him up the fucking wall, in the best possible way. He could feel his cock straining against the opening of his jeans, almost _begging_ to be let the rest of the way out.  
  
Then Aziraphale raised Crowley's hand to his lips and pressed the world's fondest kiss to its back, successfully spreading the demon's flush down into his neck.  
  
"I love you." He said, again, illustrating his point right then and there. "I love this home we have together, here. I love _how it happened_, how I just... came back with you, that night, and then never left again. I love how we both noticed, soon after, but didn't call attention to it, and just let it be. It felt so natural, from the very beginning."  
  
Crowley's heart thundered. It was all still so recent... but it felt like so long ago. There was no disagreement from him, toward any of Aziraphale's feelings on the matter. There couldn't be... he hadn't said it - they _specifically_ hadn't talked about it - but he'd felt the exact same way. He'd just sort of... silently rearranged his flat to better suit the two of them, as a unit, and it had become _theirs_ with no great fanfare or fuss.  
  
Aziraphale's hands moved southward, his thumbs hooked into the front belt loops of Crowley's jeans, and he looked up at him, asking for permission with a pair of raised eyebrows.  
  
Crowley nodded his head, granting it, and soon his bottoms were landing in a miracle assisted heap on the floor.  
  
He was naked now, and Aziraphale had him at a major disadvantage as far as that went, but looking at the angel over him, tending to him while still nearly fully clothed... it stoked some more heat into his blood. "I, um..."  
  
Aziraphale didn't say anything this time, but simply watched him expectantly, knowing there was more to come.  
  
"Just... wanted to say I like that you're still checking this often. 'S nice."  
  
Aziraphale's eyes all but sparkled. "You know well that I'm not going to stop. If you've somehow forgotten, I've no problem telling you again; I always want to make sure you're comfortable and feeling the absolute best you can feel. There is no threshold looming somewhere. It doesn't matter how many times we do this, I'm _never_ going to be entitled to your body. We'll only ever do what we _both_ choose. No other circumstance is acceptable."  
  
He said it as if it were the simplest thing in the world, and it sort of was.  
  
It made sense, was reasonable, and he really never would've expected less out of Aziraphale. His soft, gentlemanly nature (with a side of bastard, of course, but in the good way) meant he really was the best lover anyone could ask for.  
  
But expecting it still didn't stop Crowley from feeling an absolute torrent of affection whenever he would say these things. He'd never had another actual lover, but... in general, it had always seemed like he was the type of person to be used and thrown away when he had served his purpose. He'd been very much the demonic equivalent of single use plastic.  
  
Not that he would've expected anything more, but all those people he'd Tempted had done it. The demons of Hell had basically all taken at least one turn doing it.   
  
It could be said that it had been happening even before that... in a way, God herself had been the one that had started that chain.  
  
All along, he'd just wanted to feel like he was needed, like he was appreciated, and now he _finally_ did. Aziraphale cherished him, showed it every day, and that only deepened his love.   
  
He didn't need Aziraphale to prove it, he had long since done that, and was still continuing to do it of his own volition. Crowley just liked to hear it. He liked the rush it gave him to be told.  
  
With impeccable timing, Aziraphale hummed in his ear. "Mm. You are the moon of my life, Crowley."  
  
That made Crowley laugh just as much as it shot a powerful tingle through him. "I'm not as pretty as Daenerys."  
  
"No... no, you're not." Aziraphale replied, pressing kisses to the rim of Crowley's ear. "You're _prettier_. Never will I see a more captivating sight, on Earth, or otherwise."  
  
"Ngk. You just... _say_ these things."  
  
"I don't say anything that isn't true, my beloved."  
  
Crowley felt more blood rush into his face, and he hurried to pull Aziraphale down for a proper kiss so he couldn't say anything more for the moment. When they broke again, he didn't leave any room for further embarrassment, either. "Stealing their stuff works, though, now you mention it. If 'my sun and stars' doesn't describe you, I don't know what does."  
  
Aziraphale smiled brightly at him, to the point that his eyes crinkled at the corners, further illustrating the point, and then slid down Crowley's body a bit. His head dipped, and Crowley felt a hot tongue press up against one of his nipples and swirl over it, making him forget everything else.  
  
He was lost to it completely until he felt fingers brush over his bare hips. Serpentine eyes focused to watch Aziraphale, now significantly lower down his body, as his hands settled on the thighs he'd been fixated on for a couple of days. He worshipped them with long, slow strokes, making his demon shiver each time they peaked closer to the crease of his legs.  
  
"How about that mark, dear?"  
  
It took Crowley a second to realize what he was referencing, but once he did, he nearly leapt up in excitement. "Please... oh _fuck_, Angel. I want it."  
  
Aziraphale leaned in and playfully licked into one of those creases, causing Crowley to make a sound that was half yelp, half moan. The blonde grinned openly at that. He loved how sensitive Crowley was, and that there was seemingly so much remaining for them to learn about each other's hot spots, physically and mentally. The time apart had taught him that, if nothing else.  
  
"Shh. Stay still for me." He didn't _bite_, not even gently, fearing that the area was too sensitive for that, but he did close his lips around the skin and suck _hard_, and it was still enough to make Crowley squirm, though he did _try_ to do as Aziraphale had asked. It just felt really weird, yet really _good_, and he couldn't help moving a little bit.   
  
After a quick glance up, finding his face contorted in pleasure, the angel moved his hands to Crowley's hips to actually hold him still until he was finished.  
  
When Crowley started to _physically shake_ with want, even overwhelming the light pressure Aziraphale had been putting on his hips to keep him in place, he finally relented and pulled away again, but not before he laid a loving kiss against the pink splotch he'd left there.   
  
They had come to his predetermined cutoff point. It was how he'd decided he'd know when he'd gone far enough with the whole thing, when Crowley started to have a reaction like this. He moved off of Crowley completely, swinging back over his body so he could stretch out on his side and lounge next to him instead.  
  
_"Fuck_." Crowley breathed, trying to grasp back some measure of steadiness. It was only by sheer force of will that he hadn't come a time or two already.  
  
A near imperceptible smirk appeared on Aziraphale's lips. "Well, certainly, if you'd like." He said, going in for the kill.  
  
_That_ didn't help Crowley's cause in the _slightest_.  
  
It was a perfectly aimed tease... if he hadn't already been feeling absolutely goddamned _feral_ before, that was enough to push him over the line.  
  
Yes, he very much _would_ like.  
  
Aziraphale was on his back before he had much time for more coherent thought, and Crowley quickly clambered on top of him, with a low, frustrated growl of Lust.  
  
Once there, however, he paused. His brain caught up to him, finally. He'd realized quite suddenly that he was being pretty aggressive, and his cheeks flushed. "Uh... this is okay, isn't it?"  
  
Aziraphale found it in him to laugh. "Yes, dear. It's absolutely okay. I intended on something like this, don't worry." He told him, catching Crowley's wrist to bring his palm in close and press a fond kiss to it. "I must admit, being afforded the opportunity to witness you in such a state of desperation is rather marvelous. It may even be better than I expected."  
  
"S'pose it would be, for you. _Was_ your idea, after all."  
  
"I abstained, as well. This wasn't at all one sided."  
  
Crowley gave him an accusatory look. "Never really been a chronic masturbator, though, have you?"  
  
"True enough. It _was_ nice, but I think I much prefer it when _you_ touch me, my dear."  
  
The words hit Crowley hard, making him shiver. He eyed Aziraphale. "Should I?"  
  
"I rather think so, yes. If you'd like to, that is."  
  
Crowley's shoulders drooped, and he eagerly took the invitation. "God, I fucking missed you." He pawed at the front of Aziraphale's trousers, feeling him up through the fabric. He was pleased when he found him already mostly hardened, just from the work of showering his demon with personal attention.   
  
Aziraphale smiled at him, letting his hands settle in the small of Crowley's back. "I should hope that you missed more than _that_ part of me."  
  
Crowley kissed him, brief but hot, gently pulling Aziraphale's bottom lip between his teeth on his way to break away again, just to hear that wet 'snap' sound as it slipped free and returned to its proper place. "I missed you _every second_ you were gone. I missed you being the first thing I saw when I woke up in the morning. I missed your hand in my hair. I missed cuddling with you and laying in your lap while you told me about your day or read a book to me. I missed sitting with you and doing _nothing_. I missed kissing you good morning, good night, and every time in between. I missed _every part_ of you, but _especially_ this part, after you asked me not to come again until you were back." Crowley gave him a searing look. His pupils were blown so wide with Lust now that there was only a thin ring of amber remaining. "Now, Angel, quit _fucking with me_, and give me what I want... which, if you didn't understand, is this fat cock hanging between your legs. I _need_ it. Let me have it. _Please_, let me have it."  
  
The affection Aziraphale felt at Crowley's list of ways that he'd missed him was quickly overshadowed by the slip of those words, spoken out of their usual place in roleplay. Crowley was feeling so needy that he'd forgotten himself a bit, and the raunchier end of his expression had muscled its way into a place typically not reserved for it and put a little shiver into Aziraphale's spine. "It's yours, my love. All yours. Take it."  
  
He didn't need to be told twice. In less time than it took to blink, Aziraphale's bottoms had vanished (he left the top half of him untouched, since he was rather enjoying that view), and Crowley was open, slick, and sitting down on him.  
  
He wasn't sure whose voice had brought that positively _gutting_, punched out _"Oh!"_ into being, exactly, but he thought that perhaps it had actually been both of them together.  
  
Either way, that first press as he took him in brought Crowley to tears, he'd been so tense and wanting in the moments before. The feeling of Aziraphale inside him after what had seemed like ages was an unparalleled fucking relief. It was so much. Almost_ too_ much, in fact, and yet somehow _not enough_. He persisted in reining himself in... he still wouldn't allow himself to let go. His time was approaching... but it hadn't arrived quite yet.  
  
He settled, sinking completely down on Aziraphale and closing his eyes while he tried to control his breathing, shoulders going slack as he sunk into the comfort of finally not being empty anymore.  
  
The little hitches in his breath and shivers he was giving out as he steadied himself flared Aziraphale up like no other. He may have been more passive about the concept, as a whole, but _obviously_ Crowley wasn't the only one who had been wanting.  
  
The phone sex had been good... it had been _so_ good, but it just didn't compare to this. It couldn't. As enjoyable as it was, there was a noticeable lack of true satisfaction behind it, like a cake without its icing.  
  
Soon he could no longer resist his urge to kiss Crowley during the lull, reaching up to gently take hold of the back of his neck and pull him down so their lips could meet. Crowley's mouth yielded to his easily, and the kiss was slick and soft, but hungry, riling both of them up more.  
  
There was no rush to Crowley's movements, when they started, despite how ravenous he felt at the moment. Rather, they were slow. Experimental, like he was feeling things out.   
  
That changed once he found the angle he was looking for, and it was clear the instant that he had. He gasped, he arched, and then his slight up-down motion suddenly turned into full strokes with a reasonable amount of force behind them.  
  
He threw all of his weight into it, pressing Aziraphale deep down into the bed. It made the mattress squeak, which neither of them had heard it do before, and that only served to add more heat to that boil that was rolling up between them.  
  
Aziraphale was well and truly enthralled. Now Crowley was riding him like he'd been completely desperate for it... but that was definitely because he _had_ been. To call it anything less would be a gross understatement.   
  
Prior to the change in their relationship, Crowley would have sex _maybe_ once a century (the latter half of the _last_ century excluded... he'd had to do a decent number of those jobs during the 60s and 70s, when that huge shift in cultural attitude had happened in America), and less if he could get away with it... but Aziraphale had spoiled him, now.   
  
_Ruined_ him, was what he'd done. He had him _wanting it_ now; he'd put genuine desire where there had been only static and guilt before, and Crowley had gotten accustomed to a fairly regular schedule of bedroom activities at this point. He'd gotten used to not only the physical part of it, but the emotional release and their bonding, too. He had missed all three parts of it equally.  
  
After Armageddidn't, this had been the first instance that they'd been apart for _a_ day, let alone _days_, plural. Definitely the first time he had purposely kept away from touching himself this long, when he had the urge.  
  
Missing Aziraphale so much in general, plus the two of them working together to keep the option of self pleasure out of his hands... even with such a short time in between, it had whipped Crowley into a total frenzy of craving him, and he was gladly expressing that now.  
  
In spite of where he'd started, _now_ he found it very difficult to believe there was even one universe out there where he'd ever tire of this, having the bright and golden beam of his angel's attention shining directly onto him.  
  
Crowley's hips pushed down, and he aggressively took Aziraphale to the hilt with every completed movement. It was like he'd been left out in the desert for these last few days, and Aziraphale was the water that had finally come around to slake his thirst.  
  
And boy, _was_ he thirsty.  
  
Feeling Aziraphale hit so deep every time he moved on top of him made the demon's back arch, and he gave some stuttery, breathy moans. "I've needed you. I've _needed you_, Angel. I've been going absolutely fucking _mad_." He confessed, leaning in toward him a bit to catch his eye. "I've been wanting your cock inside me _all fucking week_." The intensity of that desire had ebbed and flowed, but it had been a constant that had gnawed at him, regardless. Part of it was surely the fault of the way they'd left things the morning he'd gone away. They'd both clearly wanted more, but there hadn't been time.  
  
Aziraphale gave a low sigh of pleasure as Crowley's words worked their way into him. His hand found one of its favorite spots, and his thumb stroked Crowley's cheek. "I would have come home, if you'd asked me to, my love. I'd have been back in no time."  
  
Crowley shook his head. "Mm-mm. Don't you get it? I _knew_ you'd come back if I asked. I didn't _want_ to ask." He laughed. It sounded stupid, even to him, but... as much as he'd needed Aziraphale, he'd wanted this, too. It was a madness of his own making. He'd known Aziraphale would be back, before he'd even finished asking, if he'd called him home. It was a power he hadn't wanted to use, for a few different reasons. "I freely agreed to that, so I did what you asked me to. I knew it'd be worth it, and... I wanted to be good for you." He said, nuzzling over into the hand holding his face.  
  
Aziraphale looked absolutely captivated by him. "And you were. I'm so proud of you for enduring it. You're the _best_, Crowley. You deserve your reward, my darling. All of this, and more."  
  
"Show me."  
  
He didn't have to specify it explicitly for Aziraphale to get what he meant; he didn't want to simply _take_ any longer, he wanted Aziraphale to _give_, too. The heat shot through him and it moved like a flame along a trail of petrol. Not a comparison he would use out loud, of course, but in his head, it was perfectly safe. "Oh, I have very solid plans to do just that." He brushed the pad of his thumb over the pink spot in Crowley's cheek, delighting in the warmth. "Could I... perhaps offer you something a bit stronger for right now, to take the edge off? Do you think you need that?"  
  
Crowley's eyes went wide. "Angel, _please_."  
  
That enthusiastic consent was all it took for him to move ahead. He put both of his hands there on Crowley's waist, and in the next moment he was sharply pulling him down onto his cock, rolling his hips up at the same time to fuck up into him as deeply as physically possible. After he'd bottomed out, he slowly dragged Crowley back up, lifting him to start the whole process over again.   
  
That was very new, and it took Crowley's breath; the injection of some slight forcefulness had been in play that one time before, but Aziraphale was utilizing it on his own terms this time, using what he'd learned there to make it good for Crowley now. There was also the disparity in the rhythm... they hadn't tried that before, but being penetrated quickly with a slow withdraw like this ignited something down in Crowley's center that he was very much enjoying. _"Fuck_..." He panted, nails digging a bit into Aziraphale's shoulders. "This feels incredible." He said, before the angel had even had a chance to check in on him.  
  
"Are you going to come?" He asked, instead, noting the fairly steady drip of Crowley leaking down on him.  
  
Crowley gasped at the warmth that poured down his back after being asked that, nodding his head. "Soon, I reckon, if you keep doing _that_."  
  
"Mm... and, can you stay hard for me, once you do?"  
  
"_Yes_. I absolutely fucking _can_." It wasn't really a question of ability, both of them knew if he expected his body to do so, it _would_ do so.  
  
"Good."  
  
The assault on his senses continued, and ultimately all it took was a faint brush against the edge of that sensitive bundle of nerves inside him to send Crowley reeling.  
  
His body bent in the loveliest arc as he threw his head back, covering Aziraphale's shirt in his spend while giving a sound of pure relief at finally being able to come after those two long days of purposeful denial. It was sort of impressive how long he'd been able to make himself last, given the circumstances.  
  
But... somehow it felt like the tension Aziraphale always drew out of him was still building even while he was in the process of letting go. It didn't make any sense, but that also didn't make it feel any less real.  
  
It eventually registered that there were tears streaming down his cheeks, and he raised one of his arms to wipe them away with his wrist and the back of his hand. He was overwhelmed by the release of pressure. It wasn't just about what the imposed rule had done to contribute to that over the last couple of days, but also about the bigger picture; this was the overflow of passion he'd been forced to keep pent up over the past week, with no _truly_ satisfying way to express it.   
  
Aziraphale helped guide him to slow down, and finally to a stop, holding him up with firm hands until his chest stopped heaving quite so much and he thought he could stay upright on his own.  
  
"Shh. That's it, love. All better." Aziraphale soothed, his voice sticky sweet as he moved his hands to run them reverently over Crowley's flanks. "You are just dazzling, dearheart. Why... judging by how you look, I'll bet you feel _so good_ right now, don't you?"  
  
All Crowley could do was bite his bottom lip in response, nodding his head fiercely. He didn't have words at the moment, or, rather, he just couldn't find any. His head was currently mush, but he knew he felt good.  
  
How could he not, with Aziraphale looking at him and touching him the way he was?  
  
After a moment, Crowley laid down on top of him, paying no heed to the mess he'd made, but delighting in the feeling of Aziraphale holding him, gently mouthing over the ridge of his shoulder and into the curve of his neck. He basked in the low rumble of his angel's voice, whispering affection into his ear. He hadn't gone even a single day without that, but getting him through the phone simply wasn't anywhere near the same.  
  
He discovered that he couldn't stay like that for long, though. Things had only _just_ cooled down, but he already found himself missing the heat. That, and in the back of his mind, he held onto the fact that Aziraphale hadn't gotten off yet, and that just wouldn't do.  
  
Fueled by that thought, he sat up slightly and took Aziraphale by the shoulders again. Despite his outward lack of muscle, Crowley did still have some decently impressive core strength - a leftover from his great serpent form which he rarely had cause to display - and it was bare for the whole world to see when he used it to roll them over and put Aziraphale on top of him.  
  
He'd had to disconnect them in order to do that this time, and once the move was completed, that fact left him fumbling - fighting the back to back distractions of being kissed and watching Aziraphale shuck off his bow tie and soiled shirt, throwing them and his cardigan onto the pile - and he was blindly groping around in between them to find him again. Eventually, he managed, wrapping his fingers around Aziraphale's shaft to give him a couple of heavy strokes before angling his hips up, steadying the angel with his hand to help guide him back inside.  
  
He choked at the way that felt, and, acting to pre-empt Aziraphale's check, started shaking his head. "Don't... _please_ don't stop, Angel." He breathed, marveling at the extra sensitivity caused by what he'd commanded his body to do.  
  
"Oh, I'm not going to, beloved. Not until you're nice and full of me. I'm sure that's what you want, more than anything, after you were made to do without." He said, leaning over Crowley as he bottomed out again, pausing to allow him time to settle. "Poor thing. Not to worry, I'll set you right." He cooed, skirting his fingers across the top of Crowley's head. "And even then, perhaps I won't stop, if you'd like that."  
  
Crowley choked again. _"Fuck_. I would." He hadn't realized how much until this exact moment, since that particular type of ending was _always_ something he wanted, but he really, _really_ wanted it now. And the suggestion that Aziraphale would just carry on right through it? That was the cherry on top of the whole deal.  
  
He shifted, moving to more or less bend himself in half, with his feet coming to rest on either side of his head. His flexibility easily allowed that position with no discomfort on his end, which was helpful. It was a variation he couldn't remember trying yet, but he had the idea in his head that it would help Aziraphale penetrate him deep, and also encourage _lots_ of leaning over him. At some point he would almost assuredly get the other's weight draped over him, like he near always craved.  
  
Though he'd already come once, no part of him seemed to have noticed that. He still felt almost insanely needy.  
  
The air carried the scent of sweat, of sex, of _them_, intensified further by his keen sense of smell, and in this moment it appealed to Crowley on some kind of deep, base level that he'd probably never understand. He wanted, _needed_ Aziraphale deep inside him and all around him at the same time. Any way he could get him, he'd take him.  
  
The rest of the world was covered in fog now, totally unnoticed by him, because all he could see was Aziraphale. He'd managed pretty well, he had to give himself that credit. But still, for _days_, all he had _truly_ wanted to do was see his angel again; to touch him, to feel him... and time had finally seen fit to grant him his wish. He let out a whimper, feeling the pent up emotion well up again. It spread cracks in his chest and started to seep out through them.  
  
The depth of it threatened to drown him, but it would never really be able to, no matter how hard it may try, because he had Aziraphale. Aziraphale, who would soak up his emotion and love like a sponge, always ready for more, and save him from being totally overwhelmed.  
  
As if to demonstrate this very concept, Aziraphale pressed in close to him. "Shh... shh, love. It's alright." He soothed, pushing against Crowley to bury his face lovingly into his hair. "Let me help."  
  
The re-emergence of that phrase after so long, and remembering the context in which he'd heard it before set off something in Crowley's chest that wasn't going to let him settle any time soon. If the goal had _actually_ been to stop him from whining, Aziraphale had said absolutely the wrong thing. The sound he made was equal parts fond and desperate.  
  
He felt Aziraphale smile against him. He could feel the fondness coming off of his angel in waves. "Relax, now. Just allow me to take care of you, sweetheart. You deserve it. You always deserve it... but _especially_ in this moment, since you've been so good. You did just what I asked of you, and you waited for me. You've been wanting... you said you've been _needing_ me, and yet you still didn't break. I'm so pleased with you, my darling, and I feel so blessed to have you."  
  
Crowley's first go had been almost purely about relief, about release from his torment, but _now_ it was about the reconnection. The emotion that had leaked out of Crowley had seeped its way in between them, mingling with Aziraphale's own, and now they were both fully saturated in that mix. They had missed each other terribly, and they had a lot of loving each other to do now that they were reunited. This was, of course, only one way they were going to do that... it had just forced itself to the top of the list.  
  
To that end, when he moved again, Aziraphale reduced his thrusts down to about a quarter of the speed and force he'd been using in his previous quest to simply relieve Crowley and get him off. Quite suddenly, they were operating in their normal wheelhouse, and that sent a wave of calm rolling down over Crowley.  
  
He could feel the slow drag of every inch of Aziraphale inside him now, and it sent his hands flying for any part of him he could reach, needing to touch. He ended up with one of Aziraphale's hands in his, and his other arm draped itself over the angel's back.  
  
Aziraphale leaned down to kiss him softly, then stayed close, close enough for Crowley to feel his quiet breaths washing over his face. "I could tell you needed _that_, certainly, but... I think you needed _this_ more, didn't you, dear?"  
  
Crowley didn't think it was possible for his face to get any more hot. "Ngk... y-yeah..."  
  
"I do think I like you like this." Aziraphale admitted, nipping at Crowley's bottom lip. "I can reach anywhere I want, rather easily, and I can touch... places that I normally wouldn't have access to." As if to illustrate the point, as soon as he'd finished speaking he was moving his free hand to smooth it over the back of one of Crowley's legs, giving the entire length of it a slow, fond caress.  
  
Crowley shivered at the touch on the sensitive area, sliding his hand over a bit to place it on the back of Aziraphale's neck, pushing him down enough to get him back within proper kissing range, and taking full advantage of that fact.  
  
Aziraphale took all of his pleased murmurs, whimpers, and everything else he had to offer, eagerly swallowing them down to keep them for his own as they kissed. His tongue slid against Crowley's, occasionally curling into it, and he felt his demon melting under him. It always felt good to know that he could bring Crowley to this type of blissful ruin. "Do you like that? When I kiss you? When I touch you? Do you, my clever, kind, beautiful boy?" He whispered, against Crowley's mouth, lips brushing against his with each word.  
  
He knew the answer to this _very_ well, and they both knew he knew, but this was one of the things _he_ liked to hear.  
  
"Uh-huh..." Crowley all but crooned, grabbing onto Aziraphale tighter, and squeezing around his hand more, for good measure. "I love when you take care of me."  
  
Aziraphale gave a low, throaty murmur in response to that. "Fortunate, because I also love taking care of you."  
  
In many ways, that was true. One might even go so far as to say _any_ way. Looking after Crowley had become one of his favorite things, and, as an extension of that, helping him to help himself.  
  
He felt Crowley's fingers dig into his shoulder, and knew what he wanted... _and_ how badly he wanted it. Fortunately, he was getting 'round to giving it up... but not without pushing him out of his box a little bit. He still had time to do that.  
  
"Tell me what you want, Crowley. I know you can. Ask me for it." He said, leaving his thumb to rest on the corner of Crowley's mouth this time.  
  
He would hear him say it.  
  
Crowley's hand came up to cover his, and he looked up at him pleadingly. "Please, Angel." He pushed Aziraphale's thumb far enough over that he could kiss at it. "Please come."  
  
"Any old place will do?" He teased, knowing he was twisting the knife a bit, but he wanted Crowley to be able to stop shying away from his desires. If he _wanted_ to play shy about them, well, that was his choice... and it was one that Aziraphale wouldn't necessarily be bothered by, in the slightest, since he found a shy Crowley fantastically endearing, but that was just the thing. He wanted it to _be_ a choice. He wanted Crowley to be able to make it.  
  
Crowley shook his head furiously, and when he locked eyes with Aziraphale again, somehow that plea in his expression had become even more passionate than before. "I want you to come in me. Please, Angel."  
  
It had come much easier than he'd expected it to. Aziraphale smiled at him, soft as a cloud. "That's my good boy." He said, voice dripping with praise, before moving their hands out of the way and leaning down to take Crowley's lips.  
  
That was another critical hit, right to Crowley's weakest spot, inflicting maximum damage. It showed in that sharp, surprised noise he made in response. That same temporary paralysis from last time took him again, and his every nerve sparked.   
  
Shockingly, he didn't come right then (though he was infuriatingly close to doing so), but Aziraphale _did_, with a couple of low moans pressed between their mouths, and that wall of tension in Crowley was destroyed as he felt those pulses of wet heat fill him. It was a relief that damn near matched the magnitude of what he'd felt from that first orgasm he'd had.  
  
Aziraphale kept making love to him just like that, through his orgasm and after he finished, just like he promised. He moved through the slight overstimulation, pressing into his own spend, dipping his head to kiss Crowley's neck and whispering sweet words in his ear.   
  
He'd gotten himself so worked up, so fast, with the way Aziraphale made love to him, the way he talked to him, the way he cared for him... he was already at that edge again. This time the noise he made while he spilled was more like a sob, ripped out of him by the wave of energy produced from the meeting of two unyielding forces of adoration.  
  
After, once he was done, Aziraphale helped Crowley stretch his legs and lower them back down onto the bed, taking the time to press light kisses to each of them as they passed by his face, and then he gingerly pulled out and settled with him, curling onto his chest with his head laid over Crowley's racing heart.  
  
"So good, Angel... fucking perfect." Crowley rambled, against the top of his head, and he smiled as he ran his fingers affectionately through the hair on his demon's chest.  
  
After a few moments of recovery, once their breathing had leveled out, Aziraphale stirred, and the instant he moved, he noticed with surprise that he was still raring to go. "Mm. Darling, it seems like... well, I think I'm rather in the mood for another." He said, the evidence of the sentiment poking Crowley in the hip as he sat up slightly. "Is that alright? What do you think?"  
  
Crowley's eyes were sharp on him and laser focused in the space of a heartbeat. "I _think_ I'm ready when you are."  
  
Aziraphale huffed out a laugh at the eager response. "Alright." His thumb found one of its other favorite spots, stroking over Crowley's bottom lip and down to his chin. "I've quite some backlog to make up to you, after all, and I very much intend to do so. I will _have you_, my love, as many times as you want me to. I'll savor you, every moment, like you were the most excellent meal. I'm going to pay you back in spades for your excellent behavior, until you've grown quite tired of it. That will be your _true_ reward for hanging on so sweetly for me."  
  
Crowley openly shuddered at the thought of that. So, he was going to get his chance to test their endurance, at last.  
  
Things were sure to get very messy, by the time they were done, but he couldn't have been happier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent all that time building this up, and I hope the payoff was worth it for y'all. I thought it turned out really well and I'm so glad to have them together again 🙏  
As you can (maybe) tell, I've finally more or less decided which way I'm swinging on the kinky shit, after waffling on it for about 10 chapters worth of time. They're doing it. Are going to be doing it, that is. I have plans to gradually bring that into play.  
I'm admittedly _super_ nervous to take it on because I never have before, but I'll do my best. I'm handling it as carefully as I think I'm able to as someone not directly involved in such matters so we'll see how that turns out. I'm not planning to make it a centerpiece of the story, just an addition. 😂


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Crowley regained consciousness, mid afternoon, Aziraphale was still pressed to him; the heat of his stomach against his back was a comfort, and his arms were in a loose circle around his waist, only enhancing that. Occasionally, he felt the light stroke of a thumb against his skin, a kiss pressed into the back of his neck, or a soft hum vibrating down his back.
> 
> There were no books in sight, or anything else, for that matter. He was genuinely _just_ being cuddled, and this had seemingly been going on for quite some time. His heart shuddered with love.
> 
> Finally, after this week that had seemed an eternity, he didn't have to wake up by himself anymore. Things were back to normal, and the relief that he felt from that seemed near infinite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to some big connection problems we are running very late but it is here!!!
> 
> A good chunk of this chapter is some all important negotiation! They have some stuff to sort out, and I am a nervous shit since I haven't done this before but I'm trying my best to do everything carefully 😂
> 
> <strike>I'ma still chuck it at you and run away screaming tho</strike>

When Crowley regained consciousness, mid afternoon, Aziraphale was still pressed to him; the heat of his stomach against his back was a comfort, and his arms were in a loose circle around his waist, only enhancing that. Occasionally, he felt the light stroke of a thumb against his skin, a kiss pressed into the back of his neck, or a soft hum vibrating down his back.  
  
There were no books in sight, or anything else, for that matter. He was genuinely _just_ being cuddled, and this had seemingly been going on for quite some time. His heart shuddered with love.  
  
Finally, after this week that had seemed an eternity, he didn't have to wake up by himself anymore. Things were back to normal, and the relief that he felt from that seemed near infinite.  
  
He stirred, drawing the angel's attention, dragging him back from whatever reverie he'd lost himself into, and for his trouble he received a fond smile that made him feel all fuzzy inside when he looked over his shoulder and caught sight of it. "Good morning, beloved."  
  
"Mm... is it? Dunno, am I still sleeping? Gotta be. You _never_ have a lie in like this. Bloody early risers." Crowley teased, his voice still a sleepy drawl, as he was barely awake.  
  
"I missed holding you for nearly a week. I have some catch up work to do, in more ways than just the one." He fixed Crowley with a look. "Besides, I couldn't possibly have known that you'd wake up and immediately become an absolute goblin."  
  
"'M still a demon, last I checked. No goblins here." He grinned, rolling over in Aziraphale's hold to bop the tip of the blonde's nose with his own. "Morning, Angel."  
  
Technically, they had already sort of had their morning... the previous evening's activities had gone on until near sunrise, and had only stopped then because Crowley had started to crave something that didn't involve so much moving.  
  
He'd gone to sleep still a wreck, and also still a _complete_ mess, but apparently at some point after he'd passed out Aziraphale had deemed it wise to clean him up. Part of him missed it, but most of him understood the necessity.  
  
And indeed, there was a delicious ache in his body that he wasn't going to send away any time soon... it was there, along with every single love bite Aziraphale had bestowed on him, to remind him of each moment of the pleasant exertion.  
  
He'd lost track of his orgasms once they'd hit double digits... he enjoyed each and every one of them, though. Of course, he had his favorites. That second one, the way it had gone... he thought that was probably still his number one choice. The sixth one was up there as well, when they'd both been on their knees - he'd been clinging to the headboard with Aziraphale behind him, holding him by the hips and fucking him near painfully slowly, absolutely blanketing his shoulders, neck, and upper back in kisses.   
  
But no matter what they'd done, no matter how many times they'd gone at it, it had never managed to be too much, which was very interesting.  
  
He'd only intended to use the cuddle as a bit of a break, since even then he still somehow had some unspent energy left in his tank, but after Aziraphale wrapped him up and they'd become nothing more than a tangle of limbs, he'd felt so warm and looked after in Aziraphale's arms that he'd ultimately succumbed to sleep. He could only suppose it must have been because he hadn't slept his best by himself.  
  
"You are beautiful, my dear. I really missed seeing you like this."  
  
"What, well fucked, with your marks all over me?" Crowley grinned again, to the point he developed a little wrinkle in his nose.  
  
Aziraphale leaned in to kiss it, simply unable to help himself. "I meant when you've freshly woken up, actually, but... that, too."  
  
"Did you stay home just for that?"  
  
"Not _exactly,_ though I wasn't going to miss it for the world." His hand settled on Crowley's cheek. "I never had plans to leave the day I got back. I missed you, and I knew you would miss me, so I made up my mind that I would stay with you a while. I'm going to stay home at least until Monday. While I was away I decided I want to keep taking the weekends off, for us to have some guaranteed time together every week."  
  
"I like that."  
  
"You know, I _thought_ you would."  
  
"Got any plans - that I didn't mess up by sleeping all day?" Crowley laughed.  
  
"Nothing that requires leaving the flat, or any specific timing. If you're amenable to it, dear, I thought that I might like to talk to you about some things today."  
  
"Uh, sure... like what?"  
  
He knew it wasn't going to be _bad,_ but a turn of phrase like 'we need to talk' never hit in a way that wasn't at least a little alarming, despite anyone's best intentions.  
  
"Like this request I'd made of you."  
  
"Ngk."  
  
Aziraphale's thumb traced Crowley's cheekbone. "I was thinking about it, after you went to sleep that night, and I realized that I'd sprung it on you with no warning... I feel that perhaps I should apologize for that. I know I said you could opt out... but I hope you didn't feel pressured by it at all."  
  
"Mm-mm. I didn't."  
  
"What do you think, was it alright? How did you find it? No difficulties? Well... aside from the good kind. It seemed like you very much enjoyed _that_. Am I wrong?"  
  
Crowley found himself pelted by an assault of questions, the rapid fire nature of which serving to uncover Aziraphale's anxiety about the whole thing. He wanted to know if what he'd asked Crowley to do had caused him any genuine distress, which was so sweet and so right and so _him_ that the demon couldn't stand it. He smiled, plucking Aziraphale's hand up from his face so he could bring it over to his lips and blanket it with kisses. "Angel, shh. It was fine. Really. It was good. I said yes 'cause I _wanted_ to do it, 'n I _liked_ it." Not satisfied with that resolution, he pushed on. "I liked... doing what you asked me to, 'n how that felt. I liked being good for you on my own terms, without you around, knowing you'd be happy with me when you found out. I liked thinking - well, knowing - that behaving like I was s'posed to would mean I got a treat. 'S how you work." He laughed at that last bit, shifting slightly closer to Aziraphale to actually press them together, just to feel the warmth of him against his own body.  
  
After the change in position, Aziraphale's hand settled on his shoulder instead, his thumb lightly stroking into the curve. "So... you _like_ me asking you to do things? That's alright by you?"  
  
"'S more than alright. It felt fucking amazing. Honestly."  
  
"I suppose I just saw the opportunity to test a couple of things out. Since you first mentioned it, as I told you I would, I've been researching."  
  
Crowley visibly got a little nervous at that. "Uh... what _exactly_ have you been reading?"  
  
"Books, where I can. My forte, of course." He met Crowley's gaze, extracting the unspoken question from his eyes. "But, admittedly, I have had to turn to the internet, as well."  
  
"Mm..."  
  
Aziraphale chuckled. "Not to worry, dear. Everything I've studied has been above board and meticulously sourced. Every subject has its experts, right? In any case, I haven't been indoctrinated by anything unsavory, if that's what you're concerned about. I've done my homework, and my answers haven't come from some shady bulletin boards."  
  
Crowley chuckled too, feeling part of himself get lighter at that confirmation. "It's '_message_ boards', Angel. Forums. And even those are old hat... but okay."  
  
Aziraphale huffed. "Either way, you know what I mean." He waved his hand flippantly for a moment before regarding Crowley seriously again. "I've studied the psychology of dominance and submission, mostly. I've dipped into some information about bondage, as well, since that's what you seem the most interested in. A comment about it was how you brought all of this to light, to begin with, so I made some inferences. Practical techniques will be something I suspect I'd have to learn by experience, but I've taken in some advice on that, as well. All attempts to be proactive, you understand. Whether we actually go forward with any of that is completely up to you. On the outset, it may seem like I'd be the one with the power, in that sort of a dynamic, but it would _actually_ be you."  
  
"'N that's because... I'd be able to stop everything. Right?"  
  
"Right. With as little as a single word. _You_ hold the cards, Crowley. _You_ decide what does and doesn't happen, not me. That's the way this works, to begin with. I've _always_ said I'm not ever going to do anything you don't wholeheartedly want, and that goes double, in this scenario."  
  
"Yeah. I know, Angel. You're always showing me that." He shifted up, gently touching their foreheads together. "I know you'd never force me into anything. I feel safe with you, y'know? Comfortable. Like I've never felt."  
  
"Of course not, dear. I don't have any inclination to attempt to do so in the first place, but either way I think that would be truly unforgivable." Pride and a little flutter of anticipation both bloomed in his chest at the same time, at Crowley's indirect declaration of trust. "Am I to take it that you'd like to try it on, then? Submitting to me?"  
  
Crowley nodded. "Yeah... yeah, I really think I would." He hadn't considered the concept much, before it was being directly offered, but now that it _was,_ he really couldn't help but be insanely intrigued. The idea of letting go like that, specifically letting Aziraphale handle his needs and take care of him... he thought that maybe the idea of not having full control over things should be making him nervous, but it wasn't. It was, in fact, having the opposite effect. He felt calm - or at least calm as he could - about placing himself into those loving hands.  
  
As Aziraphale had correctly pointed out, way back when, this sort of thing was _about_ trust; it simply _required_ it, and if there was one thing Crowley was overflowing with, it was trust.  
  
It certainly didn't hurt that he could tell Aziraphale was excited about the prospect as well.  
  
"There's a certain conversation or two of some depth that we'll need to have if we're going to do this, to lay out boundaries and such. We don't have to talk about it now, but we _will_ have to do so before we go in on things seriously."  
  
"Now's good... 'm not in a hurry to get out of bed, anyway."  
  
"Neither am I. Actually, I was thinking... we might stay here until it's time for dinner. I'm _quite_ comfortable, in fact."  
  
Crowley chuckled at him. "Fine by me. I'll cook tonight. Might cheat, though."  
  
"I'll be sure to look the other way, love."  
  
Crowley gave his best attempt at looking guilty. "Prob'ly better do. I can't be held responsible for what happens otherwise." He laughed, shifting to lay his head on the pillow and meet Aziraphale at eye level. "Now, uh... what exactly d'you want to talk about?"  
  
"Well, I suppose... first off, we should probably set some general parameters and determine the scope of this whole thing."  
  
Crowley knew what he meant, if only for the fact that he'd been thinking about that exact thing the night before. "I... I dunno, I think I'd be okay with it either way. Could be just a sex thing, or... um. Whatever, I guess." He wasn't as good at communicating frankly about these things, but he was _trying_.  
  
"I'm not entirely certain I'd be comfortable directing you the same way in other areas... I could try it out, if you'd like, but my instinct is telling me I'd prefer to just keep it sexual. Whether or not that means it leaves the bedroom, however... _that_ seems to be another matter."  
  
He had merely been referencing that experimental limitation he'd put on Crowley, that he'd carried through his daily routine, but the demon's mind went spinning off in another direction and his face immediately filled with color. "Ngk."  
  
Aziraphale eyed him suspiciously. "What's this, then?"  
  
Crowley gulped, but otherwise didn't respond.  
  
Aziraphale's eyes softened at that, and he tried to be extra gentle when he next spoke. "I can see you're thinking about _something,_ dear. Can you tell me what it is?"  
  
After an internal debate, Crowley decided he could start this exchange in good faith by giving up this information. He hadn't necessarily been keeping it intentionally, but he hadn't been in a rush to disclose it, either. "I, uh... when I went out? Day I went to the zoo?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I went to St. James's first."  
  
Aziraphale's forehead creased, and it was clear he hadn't a clue how this was relevant. "Oh, really?"  
  
"Y-Yeah, and... I kinda got lost in thought while I was sitting on the bench. Tends to happen, y'know."  
  
He could tell Aziraphale was starting to catch on by the way his face relaxed at that. "Go on."  
  
"W-Well, I missed you, 'n I started thinking about you. I was already kinda horny, so stuff happened... next thing I know I'm having a wet daydream about you fucking me in the middle of the park... about being on you, in your lap, right there where I was sitting." He was almost certain Aziraphale could feel the heat radiating from his face from where he was. "That was kinda dangerous... I didn't come or anything, but I popped a mean boner 'n started trying to rub myself off on the bench without realizing. Had to run outta there before it got worse. Nobody could see me, but it was the principle of the thing. 'S how I ended up at the zoo. Needed something to distract me."  
  
Aziraphale listened intently, in awe of how freely the admission was coming, considering the subject matter. It seemed his efforts the night before may have been more successful than he'd thought. A bit into the story, he truly realized the significance of what Crowley was offering him. Seeing that his silence could be taken as a negative, and wanting to nip that idea off before it could bloom in Crowley's head, he spoke up. "That's... _very good,_ love. I'm proud of you for being able to share this with me. Thank you." He reached out, holding Crowley under his jaw with his fingers and pressing his thumb to his cheek, delighting in the warmth against his palm. "Do you think... that's actually something you'd like to try?"  
  
He was, by now, aware of the fact that it was entirely possible for a person to have a fantasy without actually wanting to act on it, so thought it was worth asking.  
  
"Um... maybe? I dunno, I... I hadn't really thought about it seriously."  
  
Even if they could remain sight unseen, the idea of public sex was sort of daunting. On the other hand, he couldn't deny there was a certain thrill in the back of his head, even right now, while he considered it... he'd had a very strong reaction to it in that moment too, so he really didn't know which way he would swing on it. Thinking about it when he wasn't already unbearably horny would probably be a good start to figuring that out, honestly. That had surely colored things at least a bit.  
  
"Well, there's no rush, dear. You don't have to decide right away. We don't have to nail down every single thing right from the beginning. That sort of thing may be something we'd need to work our way up to."  
  
"But, uh, probably oughta... at least make a baseline, right?"  
  
"Yes. That's exactly right, we should. We need to class likes and dislikes... but it doesn't have to be exhaustive, and likely won't be. We can build on it as we go, but we'll need a starting point, at least." Not only had he understood that as the right thing to do; thorough negotiation as a first step had been repeated across every piece of literature he'd read on the subject so far, but he also just _wanted_ to talk about it.   
  
He'd been very good about it, otherwise, but it went without saying that he'd learned his lesson about being rock solid on this type of communication the moment he'd made the mistake of staying quiet when he needed to speak and he'd scared the wits out of Crowley. "It's also important to note that nothing is by any means set in stone. If you say yes to something, and later find you don't enjoy it as much as you thought you would, you'll need to tell me, so we can adjust. And the opposite is true, as well. If you decide you want to try out something you previously thought you wouldn't like, let me know. Changing your mind is normal, and it's reasonable to do so with experience. I just need you to keep me informed."  
  
"Y-Yeah."  
  
"The hard limits, then. How about we begin there?" From what he'd understood, finding out what not to do was arguably more important than finding out what _to_ do.  
  
"Okay."  
  
"If you'd like to start us off?"  
  
Crowley chewed on the inside of his lip. He guessed it made sense for him to go first. "Guess this is the big one. I've had... well, I've kinda thought about this stuff before, without _really_ realizing that's what it was. When we..." He paused, trying to figure out how to say what he wanted. "When we started doing physical stuff, I had these debates in my head, y'know? Just a couple of 'em... about whether I wanted you to use me." He took a quick breath and continued, before Aziraphale had a chance to rebuttal him. "I don't. Never did. I figured that out at the beginning. That's too much for me, 'n I know it's too much for _you_, too. But that's not what this is. 'S not what you're offering. This is another way for you to take care of me, right?"  
  
"Right." Aziraphale confirmed, pleased that Crowley had been able to cut straight to the meat of it like that. He'd just instinctively understood. "I've been viewing it that way. It's simply an extension of the things I've already been doing to nurture you. I've come to realize that I enjoy that far more than it seemed at the start. Providing guidance to you is quite a thrill for me, whether it's a sexual thrill or not. Helping you get well - watching you progress in your recovery, and doing my part to give you pleasure... those things put different kinds of passion in me, but it's very strong, in either case."  
  
The word sparked sudden awareness in Crowley. "Um... speaking of strong..."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"So, uh... I guess I just mean to say--" Crowley swallowed thickly. "It gets me going when you do stuff to show me how strong you are, but I don't want to actually be hurt. We shouldn't go there. I don't think we should."  
  
Aziraphale shook his head, briefly giving Crowley a soothing touch at the top of his. "Darling, I'm _absolutely_ not going to hurt you. I'm never going to strike you. I've _never_ wanted to hit you, and I'm certainly not going to start now, of all times."  
  
"I know." And he did, he already knew. He knew Aziraphale wouldn't. He'd never. "I just... felt like I should say it. Officially, y'know? On the record."  
  
"You should. I didn't mean to imply that you shouldn't, love. Of course not. This_ is_ a trade of information, first and foremost. Anything classed as a limit, in either direction, yours _or_ mine, is just that, and obviously we won't so much as dip a toe there. I simply meant to assure you that we're in more than total agreement on that. I recognize that some find enjoyment from pain, and casting judgement isn't the point of saying this. I think people should do what they enjoy, and it isn't anyone else's business. My point is only that the very concept of purposely inflicting pain on _you_ is abhorrent to me, and I can't let that go unsaid, either. I need you to understand how strongly I feel about it, even if we're in agreement. Violence is off the table for me, completely. I can't accept even the thought of anything that will hurt you. I _never_ want to hurt you, Crowley."  
  
Crowley nodded, drawing his arm tighter around Aziraphale.  
  
"And, if I may springboard off of that, I'm also not willing to go in on any kind of verbal abuse. I'm not going to belittle you, or call you awful names. I won't wound you emotionally, either. Even if it's all theater, I can't stand the idea of doing that to you. In fact, I may find that _even more_ abhorrent than the idea of hurting you physically."  
  
Crowley made a face. He hadn't even thought of that. He didn't know why, exactly... he hadn't taken a dive into all of this himself, before, but he'd been around, so he was still plenty aware that humiliation was a thing that got some people's rocks off.   
  
He liked a bit of teasing; 'foul fiend' and et cetera had gone over quite well, but the idea of Aziraphale shouting at him or _genuinely_ degrading him was too odd to even comprehend, probably. "I don't want that, either." That was sort of putting it mildly, even. He _really_ wouldn't like it. "Definitely not."  
  
After that, he dropped off to think for a moment. It would be an unspoken understanding between them already that anything to do with fire or heat was definitely out... unless Aziraphale found some way to incorporate the therapy into this whole business, which Crowley wouldn't doubt, because he was brilliant at finding ways to kill two birds with one stone, but still. He knew he didn't need to cover that.  
  
He tried to think of things that he knew of that were far outside his scope of comfort, other than that, and was blanking, so he was grateful when Aziraphale moved in to help some more. "I'm not comfortable with anything pertaining to bodily fluids... or excretions." Not that they normally produced those, but if they wanted to... they _could_. "Other than the obvious one, of course. Come is perfectly fine by me."  
  
Crowley looked mortified at the very thought of the idea as a whole, so much so that he couldn't even get properly embarrassed by the last part. "Uh... yeah. That's a big no from me too."  
  
"Anything else?"  
  
Crowley gave it another thought, and his brain once again provided nothing when put under pressure. "Can't really think of anything off the top of my head, no."  
  
"Well then, how about we move on to... what you do want, now."  
  
This was something Crowley could handle a little easier. "S'pose this one's obvious, but the... the shackles. Uh, restraint. Bondage, I guess y'can say?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Y'can use other stuff, too, y'know. Like... I dunno, rope?"  
  
"I see. Is there anything you can think of that you _wouldn't_ like me to use, to that end?" It would probably be a much shorter list, and easier to come up with, he thought.  
  
"Er... yeah, I guess. Don't think I like the idea of handcuffs. I know they're not that different from shackles, but..."  
  
Aziraphale put his hand into that copper hair again, mussing it and soothing him with a light pet. He'd been trying not to touch Crowley too much, to let him get through this conversation without possible influence, but he couldn't help himself. He felt the urge to comfort, and he followed it. "You don't have to explain, dear. There may not even _be_ an explanation. If you don't want to use something, that's all I need to know in order not to use it."  
  
Even though Crowley knew it was only what was proper, he couldn't help that surge of affection at the reassurance, either. "I know."  
  
"Do you have a preference on _how_ you'd like to be tied?"  
  
Crowley's brows knitted together. He hadn't really considered that. "Uh... not really, no. Y'can tie my wrists together, chain me or tie me to stuff... it's whatever."  
  
"So, you've established that you'd like for me to bind your arms. How about the rest of you?"  
  
This question made him fidget. "Dunno, but not the legs. I'll stay still, but I'd prob'ly freak out if I _couldn't_ move 'em."  
  
"Well, _that_ certainly wouldn't do." Aziraphale said, and briefly eyed Crowley. "You understand the point of this is _only_ gratification, don't you? It's not meant to distress or negatively provoke you, and if it ever does, you need to stop it immediately."  
  
"Of course. 'S exactly why I'm telling you that."  
  
Him saying that helped it to dawn on Aziraphale; apparently he wasn't the only one who had learned a lesson from that particular miscommunication. He smiled a little. "Ah, I see. Well, I _do_ always want you to be honest, after all."  
  
"Yeah." Crowley moved slightly, letting his hand settle on Aziraphale's bicep. "Y'can still tease me, y'know. I want you to, even. I _do_ like that. Physically, mentally, doesn't matter. Like, when you call me foul fiend 'n stuff, that's my favorite. I fucking love your dirty talk." He thought back to Aziraphale telling him he had a sinful cock and just about melted.  
  
There was the ghost of a smirk at the corners of Aziraphale's mouth, but he remained there, looking at Crowley expectantly, waiting for him to continue his list. He knew there were more items to come.  
  
"And. Um. The marks."  
  
"Oh, _do_ go on." It was becoming quite clear that he was very much enjoying himself through this section.  
  
"'S another obvious one, I guess. I... I mean, you already know I like it when you do that."  
  
"Oh, yes. I do." Aziraphale couldn't help that little grin, letting his eyes dip to look over some of the ones he'd left on Crowley the night before.  
  
Crowley shifted, baring his neck so his angel could look his fill at the cluster of them that colored his skin there. "So, I... I want you to do it, whenever you can. All over me. If I end up looking like this every time, I wouldn't be mad about it."  
  
"Noted." He leaned in to press a light kiss against Crowley's marked neck. "Not that it's specific to this particular negotiation, but I feel that it's worth pointing out while I have a good chance to... if you'd ever like to give me some love bites, too, my dear, you're free to do so."  
  
Crowley swallowed, his throat visibly contracting as a flash of Aziraphale with a dark, teeth shaped bruise on his shoulder danced before his eyes. "Oh, _shit._" He wheezed.  
  
Aziraphale couldn't help smiling at him. If Crowley didn't know better he'd have sworn he saw his eyes twinkle, the same way they had back at The Globe. "My, it certainly sounds like you'd like to give that a go."  
  
"You have no fucking idea."  
  
"I will _certainly_ keep that in mind." The tone he used to say it made it a promise. "But, before we get too far off track, is there anything else that springs to mind, my love?"  
  
"I... uh, well. Yeah, I guess." He looked at Aziraphale sort of timidly. "But, this one's sort of... different, from those other things. 'S still physical... but prob'ly more mental."  
  
"Try me."  
  
"Maybe, sometimes..." He grasped for the wording he wanted, and eventually _sort of_ found it. "Er, that is... you don't... _always_ have to give me what I ask for right away."  
  
"You'd like it if I made you wait sometimes, then? Like with this whole... delayed gratification thing we've done?"  
  
"Mm. Yeah, I think so. It'll be up to you to decide when to use it, 'course, but... I s'pose if you give me enough time to anticipate being allowed to come, it'll make it feel more intense when I can. 'S the way it worked last night, anyway..."  
  
Aziraphale's surprise was evident. "You liked it that much?"  
  
"Yeah. Maybe doing it for _days_ is overkill... but I _can_ do that, if you want. I still liked it."  
  
Aziraphale hummed in consideration. "Well, I think this is a strong enough basis for me to get some ideas going, at least. I'll consult you for your opinion on anything extra I come up with, if that happens. Nothing we do is going to come as a surprise, it will always be something we've discussed beforehand. Does all of that sound good to you, love?"  
  
"Uh-huh. It does."  
  
"Good. Now... while we might not be planning anything violent, there's one other matter that needs tending to. I still need you to choose a safe word, regardless."  
  
That sent Crowley retreating into his shell. "Ngk."  
  
"Don't be embarrassed, now. It's just another step of the process, dear. But it's an important one." Aziraphale soothed him with a fond stroke against his skin. "It's an escape hatch for you, in case you become overwhelmed."  
  
The offered comfort succeeded in drawing him back out. "I know. I just... dunno what to pick."  
  
"It can be anything, I suppose. Anything you'd not be likely to say otherwise, that is. The point of it is to be a bit absurd and jarring, from what I understand."   
  
Crowley doubted that he would ever need it, with as considerate and attentive as Aziraphale always was, and also due to the aforementioned lack of violence at play, but he still understood the importance of having it, nonetheless.  
  
Even so, figuring it out didn't seem to be a process that wanted to work for him, at the moment.  
  
Again, Aziraphale stepped in to save him. "There is a bit of an alternative, I suppose. I'd still like for you to choose a specific word before we begin in earnest, but there's a redundancy we can put in place if you'd prefer to have options. I will admit that since I learned of it, I've been thinking that using a color system may work well for us."  
  
It dawned on Crowley that he'd heard of this concept somewhere before. He'd seen it referenced when he was bored and flicking through the internet, probably. "Oh. Like a... traffic light kinda thing?"  
  
"Yes. Precisely that. I was thinking that perhaps there would come a situation in which you'd be reluctant to use your 'red', as it were, because you'd only like some clarification, and you didn't think that warranted something so serious as stopping everything entirely."  
  
Crowley swallowed. He had to admit, that _did_ sort of sound like a predicament he might get himself into. A physical cue had worked, before, and he reckoned it still would, as another alternate, but he also imagined there would be frequent situations where he'd be unable to use one directly. He would likely find himself with his arms bound quite often when they decided to do something kinky, since that was one of the big items on his list.  
  
"Of course..." Aziraphale continued, lightly brushing a hand through Crowley's hair. "I imagine that for us things will be a lot looser than most partnerships of this type. If you flat out asked me for clarification in the middle of things, I'd know that you meant it, and I'd give it to you. I was thinking of this mostly as a means to feed your desire to preserve scene integrity. You rather enjoyed doing what we could do maintain it before."  
  
"I love you." Crowley blurted, out of the blue, and gave him an enthusiastic peck on the lips. "I mean... fuck. The things you pay attention to and remember are just fucking insane, I swear."  
At first Aziraphale was surprised, but once he recovered from that, the unexpected display of affection made him smile and hold Crowley closer. "All in a day's work, my dear."  
  
"You'd be the employee of a fucking lifetime if that was the case." Crowley laughed. "So, uh, are we... done talking for now?"  
  
Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked up at the bluntness of his question, despite Crowley's best effort to soften the blow, causing the demon to wiggle into him and give him another kiss to his jaw. "I suppose that's a decent stopping point, yes." He eyed Crowley with interest, watching him continue to pile on the affection. "Why?"  
  
Crowley leaned back and gave him a lascivious look in response. "One more, before we get up?"  
  
Aziraphale huffed out a laugh, and then pretended to consider it. "Hm... oh, I suppose. If you insist." He hummed, settling his hand on Crowley's hip. "I _had_ been thinking that I wasn't quite done with you yet."  
  
Crowley grinned and rolled back over, getting himself ready at the same time, to save time. He wiggled backwards, nestling himself into the concave dip of Aziraphale's lap, where he found him hard and waiting. He didn't know whether his touch had done that, or if Aziraphale had gotten himself ready in the 20 seconds it had taken him to get to this point, but either way, it excited him.  
  
It excited him even more when Aziraphale did something totally different from what he'd expected. The angel shifted behind him, but instead of pressing into him or even up against his arse, he felt something slick and oily coat the inside of his thighs before that thick cock pushed through the small gap between his legs. The miraculously slicked tip dragged against almost the entire length of his own cock, in a slow back and forth motion that had him melting immediately. _"Oh,_ Angel..."  
  
"Is this alright?"  
  
Crowley's head dropped back against Aziraphale. "Yessssss. Keep at this for a bit. Please?" He replied, his tongue initially going a bit snakey from the intense wave of relaxed pleasure he was currently experiencing.  
  
"Anything you wish for, my darling, you will have." Aziraphale whispered, his breath washing over Crowley's head and tickling the side of his face. "Just keep your legs together for me, if you would. That's a dear."  
  
Aziraphale turned his hand, pressing his fingertips to Crowley's stomach and moving them in an almost torturously slow slide over his body, leaving trails of warmth and a sort of bubbly satisfaction in their wake. Crowley's breaths went ragged, as they often did in this type of situation. He would absolutely never get enough of Aziraphale touching him like this. Purposeful, worshipping strokes were the name of his game, and it made Crowley feel like the treasure he knew he was in his angel's eyes. Aziraphale had told him as much, and through his actions had left no room for it to be doubted.  
  
He basked in the attention, passing in and out of full awareness as he sunk into the feeling of that low, pleasant throb between his legs. Throughout, Aziraphale never made any moves to escalate, but kept things just as slow and lazy as they'd been when he'd started.  
  
It felt like it could have been hours, days, months, or even years before he spoke up at all. He wasn't sure, but it didn't matter, and most importantly, he didn't care. "Crowley..."  
  
"Hm?"  
  
Crowley's hand settled on top of his, at his waist, and he felt the cool touch of his own ring against his heated skin. He had to fight very hard to concentrate through that distraction.  
  
"I know we've just had this talk, and everything, but I'd really like to make love to you. As we've always done, I mean. Is that alright? We can keep at it like this, if you'd prefer." He offered, purposely dragging himself heavily against Crowley's thighs for emphasis.  
  
Through the shiver that put into him, he somehow still managed to answer. "Mm, yeah. Can change over now. 'S alright. I'll still-- 'm gonna want all this too, y'know? Even after we start playing with the other stuff." He peeked over his shoulder at Aziraphale. "'Sides, if I know you... you'll be hatching a plan for something grand to start that off with."  
  
In response, Aziraphale gave a grin that normally would've gotten him accused of some sort of bastardry by Crowley. "Oh, no. You've caught me. Whatever shall I do?"  
  
This time, though, Crowley just mirrored his expression as he turned around and settled back into the pillow. "Dunno. Could start repenting for your schemes by getting in me, I guess."  
  
Aziraphale laughed, and Crowley felt him shake his head against him. "Now?"  
  
Crowley dropped his hand again and wriggled down into the mattress, making himself comfortable. "Yeah. 'M ready."  
  
"Like this, dear?" He asked, stroking his hand over Crowley's hip and making him arch back toward him a bit.  
  
"Mm-hmm... _just_ like this. Don't wanna move."  
  
Just after, there was another shift, and Aziraphale slid his cock out from between Crowley's legs. He was almost genuinely upset at the loss, because he had _really_ enjoyed how that felt, but Aziraphale didn't leave him in the lurch for long. He soon felt the blunt head of the other's cock up against him, pressing at his rim a moment, teasing, before Aziraphale actually pressed his hips forward and entered.   
  
He'd purposely left himself a bit on the tight side this time, and Aziraphale's slide home sent sparks flying through the whole of him. It was an impeccable sensation, to be able to feel every bit of that girth making its way into him. He clawed involuntarily at the arm still holding him around the waist. The other one had very recently moved, to hold up his leg and give Aziraphale leverage to push in to the hilt. "Oh, _fuck_..."  
  
"Good?" Clearly, it was having a very positive effect on him too, judging by the breathy tone of his voice in Crowley's ear.  
  
Tingles traveled up the entire length of Crowley's spine in response to it. _"So_ good."  
  
Aziraphale stroked the back of his thigh with soft, slight motions, making it even better. The rest of him settled to stay put a while, as he knew Crowley liked. "Good, gorgeous, gallant... what else are you?" He smiled, putting his chin on Crowley's shoulder to nuzzle him cheek to cheek.  
  
"Fuck, shut up..." Crowley laughed, a bit breathlessly, ears burning as he reared back slightly to bump Aziraphale's face with his own playfully. "I wanna make this last longer than like 10 seconds when you start moving."  
  
Aziraphale shared in the laughter, relenting temporarily. "Lazy sex does it for you, hm?"  
  
Crowley snorted. _"Any_ sex does it for me when it's with you." He murmured, twisting his top half a bit awkwardly so he could kiss Aziraphale over his shoulder. "Mmf. Don't think you understand how hot you are to me, Angel." He breathed out, against the other's lips, when they broke apart again.  
  
"You flatter me, sweetest." Aziraphale hummed, pressing himself flush to Crowley's back again and nuzzling into the curve of his neck while he waited for Crowley to get his fill of this moment before.  
  
"'S true, though. You're so fucking sexy. Y'don't even have to be _doing_ anything. Could get off just looking at you."  
  
Aziraphale's snort against his ear made the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. "It seems to me like you're stretching it a bit." He laughed.  
  
"Mm-mm. I mean it. I love you like _this,_ but... y'know when you're just a little bit undone? Like... you're home for the day, 'n you take off your jacket? When you're 'round here, just wearing your waistcoat... I can't stand it. Or, fuck, when you're standing here in just your shirt 'n tie, like... when we're talking while you get ready to put your pyjamas on? That's even worse. If you ever undid a button or two and stayed like that a while I think I'd _actually_ fucking lose it. I'd be on you like flies on..." He trailed off, unable to come up with the proper ending to that phrase at present. The word 'flies' also made him think of Beelzebub, and he did _not_ need his boner killed right now, so he hurried to throw the whole thing out. "Doesn't matter. Point is, I'd be on you." He said, waving his hand in the air in an exaggerated gesture.  
  
It would create a need within him that would provide a strong rivalry to the one that he'd felt just 24 hours ago, probably.  
  
He realized that all he was doing was providing ammunition, here, but Aziraphale needed to hear it. He'd long since gotten fully comfortable with himself - with displaying himself to Crowley, especially. Crowley had made sure he'd known he found him attractive, but reassurance never hurt. Explaining (or _attempting_ to explain) the scope of it didn't hurt.  
  
"So... that _would_ be why you left me partially dressed last night?" He sounded very much like he'd just had a theory confirmed. "I didn't realize it had that much of an effect on you."  
  
"Well, the more you know."   
  
Aziraphale was quiet, after, which prompted him to peek over his shoulder again, and the look in those eyes said it all - he could definitely expect that to be implemented somewhere, at some time. He could practically _see_ the calculations running across the surface.  
  
He was _not,_ however, in any way displeased by this information.  
  
He was getting _sort of_ used to it now, but still occasionally marveled at the depth of his attraction to Aziraphale. It was so much that he wondered if he even _knew_ the true depth. Whether looking at romantic _or_ sexual attraction, he had it in spades.  
  
Admitting it - even to himself - showed just how far he had come, and he knew things were just going to keep going up from here, especially with this new dynamic coming into play. It put a pleasant, fuzzy feeling into his chest, thinking about it.  
  
It had just so happened that neither of them had really had to give up any ground in order to achieve it, but through this extensive discussion they'd found their middle point, where both of them would be comfortable and enjoy it. _That_ was all that mattered.  
  
When they did that, Crowley would be handing himself over, placing himself fully into Aziraphale's hands. Aziraphale was going to be taking an active share of the power balance, sure enough, just like he wanted him to, but he was going to do it _gently,_ like only he could. He wasn't going to be there to take _control,_ he was going to be there to take _care_. He wasn't going to dictate, he was going to guide.   
  
It would be a lie if Crowley said he wasn't excited to see what that was like.  
  
Once again, he directed his line of sight to Aziraphale's face. The fondness he saw there was nearly unbearable. Its strong presence was there in every inch of him, and he was near bursting at the seams with it. It danced on that boundary line of overwhelming and made Crowley's chest ache in the best way.  
  
Then there was a quirk of an angelic eyebrow, and it almost killed him. He gave a tiny whine, almost quiet enough to go unheard, and lightly settled his free hand on top of Aziraphale's at his leg. Gaps opened up between the angel's fingers, and he drew Crowley's into them to hold his hand, stroking the side with his thumb.  
  
With that wordless exchange, the stage was set, at last. Aziraphale turned his head and pressed a trio of kisses to the underside of Crowley's jaw as he started to move, rolling his hips in a deliberate wave. He tried his best to replicate the rhythm that had best taken Crowley apart the night before - the sharp penetration and slow withdraw - without making his pace or movements harsh, and he mostly managed. It wasn't _quite_ the same, doing it like this, but it was proving to be nearly as effective, anyway. They'd hardly begun, and Crowley was already panting.  
  
He was determined to take some time with Crowley, though, as he always did unless other plans were in order. He had all the time in the world to be with him, to love and appreciate him, and that was a great comfort. Learning to trust that fact after all the anxiety that had manifested in each of them during the lead up to the supposed Last Day had been very freeing.  
  
"You're so sweet, do you know? I remain so pleased with you that my whole being is practically singing with it. You were so good for me, hanging on even though it was hard. Not that I expected anything less from you, but... ah, still. It's quite another thing to experience it." He sighed the type of sigh that Crowley associated with his appreciation of a particularly delicious meal, and diverted his thumb to stroke his thigh again. "You also feel so nice around me that I can't help but be indulgent with you and want to reward you more."  
  
Crowley luxuriated in the praise, absorbing it and happily feeling the spikes of pleasure it sent stabbing through his body... carving into him so deeply that it felt like they may have even been touching his very soul.  
  
Aziraphale's thumb brushed lovingly up against _that_ spot, at his inner thigh... the spot that he had willed to remain pink, to distinguish it from all of the other marks.  
  
Although it had been an accident, blurted out the very first time, he was glad he had been able to come around to the fact that he actually _did_ want Aziraphale to mark him, because he loved it now. He was gradually learning to accept that he was allowed to very thoroughly enjoy his angel with a soft touch, but at the same time want those things, too. They weren't mutually exclusive; it wasn't a 'one or the other' situation, and he could desire them each in their own measure. Being able to carry around the proof that they were paired like this was an amazing feeling, even if they were the only ones that would ever see it.   
  
As if Aziraphale could read his mind, he felt lips and teeth lightly grazing over the curve between his shoulder and neck, and it made goosebumps rise over most of his body. "Do it..." He sighed, stretching his neck as best he could in that position to give Aziraphale plenty of access to do as he pleased.  
  
When he closed his mouth and bit down, it was on top of a spot he'd already covered the night before, and that stab of sweet overstimulation made Crowley hiss and his body jerk out of pleasure. Idly, he wondered how dark these marks could possibly get. He was looking forward to possibly finding out.  
  
Aziraphale soothed the bite with a gentle lick, followed by a kiss, which made Crowley swoon. "May I touch you, love?"  
  
"Y-Yeah. Please. I want you to, Angel. Touch me."   
  
Aziraphale smiled into him. "I'm so proud of you." He said, in a low tone against Crowley's skin, and took him in hand.  
  
And really, he _was_ proud. Crowley still had a bit of work to do, but he had already come so far in being able to accept and _enjoy_ his sexuality. He still had a couple of very specific hangups, but he wasn't afraid of it anymore, and his progression truly made Aziraphale's heart feel bright with pride. Little did he know, they were on the same page with appreciating that fact at the moment.  
  
He heard Crowley swallow again, and felt his skin heat with the deep flush he always manifested when Aziraphale would praise him.  
  
With that in mind, and emboldened by Crowley's earlier admission of liking when he talked dirty to him, he decided to lean in on it, to really push his buttons. "Shall I pump you full of me, and then lie back to watch as you make a mess out of those gorgeous thighs of yours? What do you think, my dear...?"  
  
His calculated risk more than paid off. The potency of that tingly wave that rolled over as a result was almost physically painful, and it made Crowley shout and leak into his palm. "Ahhh! Oh fuck... oh, _fuck!"_  
  
"Mm. I _do_ love how enthusiastic you get over this." Aziraphale purred, kissing against the shell of Crowley's ear as he shifted to try a new angle.   
  
If Crowley had been in his right mind, he might've said the same. The speed and ferocity with which Aziraphale latched onto his weaknesses and learned to play them against him to give him pleasure was absolutely dizzying, and it definitely brought good tidings when considering their new venture.  
  
But he was definitely not in his right mind, and lost that thread even further when the tip of Aziraphale's cock bumped up against that spark of nerves inside him. A garbled string of consonants fell off of his tongue, and then he found and clung onto a single word. "There! There, there, _there_..." He moaned, unable to form a coherent sentence.  
  
Fortunately, with his fluency in Crowley-speak, Aziraphale was easily able to make sense of it. "You mean... here, sweetheart?" He said, giving a purposeful thrust in the indicated direction that pushed into it more directly and made Crowley cry out again.  
  
"Agh, Angel!"  
  
He wondered how it was possible for someone to be relentless, yet so soft, all at the same time... but clearly it was, _somehow_, because that was a perfect description of Aziraphale's movements. Now that he'd been informed of its location, he was pushing against that spot mercilessly, but slowly... lovingly taking the buildup of Crowley's orgasm from a state of lightly rippling water up to a simmer, and toward a full rolling boil.  
  
"I've got something just for you, my dearest... something that I know you want very much, but I'm still going to need you to ask me for it."  
  
Crowley gasped, unable to help himself, knowing what that meant. "Angel, Angel, Angel..." He chanted enthusiastically, panting heavily as he held onto Aziraphale's hand for dear life. "A-Ah, I need you to come... please! Fill me up. I want it... I want it..." He rambled, gasping and submerging himself into that low, pleased murmur he was rewarded with.  
  
"Mm... there's my good boy. But, then... he was here this whole time, wasn't he." Aziraphale managed to get his most powerful words of approval out just before he let go, gifting Crowley with a deep groan against the side of his neck as he found his completion and released deep into him.  
  
Once more, the ultimate weapon of praise - not even just 'good boy', but '_my_ good boy' - seized Crowley's body like he had been touched with a live wire, arcing up from the base of his spine, and sparking its way through his entire nervous system. He could feel the current of pleasure moving through him from head to toe.  
  
It was far too much at once for Crowley to stay quiet, but he didn't currently have the wherewithal to actually develop words, and his vocal cords pushed out a sharp noise that sounded like "Ack!!!"  
  
Aziraphale turned his head to nibble against the rim of Crowley's ear. He hadn't stopped moving in him, not even for a second, and wouldn't until Crowley was finished too. Especially not now that he knew how much Crowley enjoyed him to keep going after he'd come. "Will you come for me, darling?"  
  
Crowley responded with a tight squeeze to the hand that he held, and a furious nod. With great effort, he located the part of his brain that contained language. "Mm-hmm... oh, Angel, _please_..." He practically cried, bracing himself against the bed with the tip of his foot and struggling in vain to push himself onto Aziraphale more, dancing on that razor edge and desperate with pleasure.  
  
"Listen to yourself. Oh Crowley, you sound simply divine." Aziraphale said, clearly pleased, soothing Crowley with a soft kiss against the back of his neck. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me finish taking care of you."  
  
He pulled Crowley in closer, carefully lifted his leg just a little bit higher, and encouraged him to turn enough for a proper kiss.  
  
Just like that, tongue in his mouth and fingers curled gently around his cock, he guided Crowley the rest of the way toward oblivion. His climax crept up on him gradually, like a careful predator in the night, and then it pounced, tearing him to pieces. He gave a pathetic, strangled cry into Aziraphale's mouth when he finally came, choking on a small sob at the breathy moan Aziraphale returned to him when he clenched around him.  
  
It was overwhelming, all of it together, and he wondered if there would ever come a time when it _wouldn't_ be. The end result; the overflow of pleasant ache, the relief spawned from his hunger for this deep affection being fed... he hoped it would _always_ continue to hit him just this hard.  
  
Aziraphale carefully pulled out and let Crowley's leg down, taking in his sounds of protest and moving back just far enough to get a good look at him.  
  
Face flushed, eyes dazed, and lips kiss swollen and wet, Crowley was the very picture of blissed out ruin, and that was _before_ taking into account what was now happening between his legs.  
  
Aziraphale left him like that a while, gently kissing his cheek and allowing him plenty of time to stew in that feeling he seemed to crave like no other.   
  
"May I see, love?" He found himself gently asking, after some time, out of nowhere. He'd never actually looked directly at the aftermath... not because he was avoiding it, or anything, but usually by this point he'd busied himself with cuddling up to Crowley, to keep him warm and wrapped up in affection. This time, for some reason... he felt curious. Perhaps their conversation had opened him up and encouraged his adventurous side a bit more, but either way it seemed like he might actually make good on that dirty talk, if Crowley liked.  
  
And Crowley _did_ like. He choked on air, his hips giving an abortive little jerk at the very idea of Aziraphale appraising him in this state. "Urk. U-Uh... yeah. Yes."  
  
And so Aziraphale gingerly lifted his leg back up, sitting up slightly and directing his gaze to the space he had just been occupying a moment ago. With long, slow sweeps of his eyes, he observed the mess he'd made there, watching with rapt fascination the slow trickle of his come gradually flowing down and leaving its own mark on Crowley's thigh.  
  
Initially, he had gone with it simply because he had no preference on the matter, and Crowley so clearly _did,_ even if he sometimes had difficulty expressing it. That was the behavior he was now trying to correct, by having him ask for it. It seemed to be working, and eventually he would be able to ease up, but he knew it was probably going to take a bit of work to make it stick.  
  
But, regardless... at this point it was undeniable that he was beginning to develop his own bit of craving for it as well. He loved how the proof of his own pleasure could _completely_ undo Crowley, and it felt so good to give that to him, in more than just the physical way. He deserved so much, and that was the least of it. It was a primal sort of enjoyment, but he reveled in it.  
  
"D'you... like what you see?" Crowley asked, from the silence, in a voice that sounded small, sort of unsure.  
  
But Aziraphale wouldn't stand for it. "Oh, yes. I definitely do." He replied, honestly, giving the sensitive part of his leg a fond stroke as he let it back down again and retook his place next to Crowley. "You are positively _filthy,_ and it's magnificent."  
  
"Ngk." said Crowley, and gave his best effort at hiding his heated face.  
  
With that, they fell silent, and eventually Crowley's shoulders drooped, indicating the peak of his satisfaction had been reached; he had wrung all of his enjoyment out of it for now and it was alright to press on without cutting him off.  
  
Aziraphale took the cue and cleaned them up with a well placed rush of warm, divine energy, and drew Crowley to his chest when he rolled back over. That was where he stayed, stroking his back and making endless declarations of love while he held him, kissing Crowley's fingers where his hand rested next to his face and beaming like anything.  
  
Their cuddle lasted a while after they'd both calmed down, and if he didn't know any better he'd swear Crowley had almost fallen back asleep on him. Really, that might have been true, though. His demon _had_ always been fond of his sleep, and it had seemed to him that he hadn't been getting it, or at least not of the quality he'd become used to, in his absence.  
  
But, even so, this time Crowley was the first to stir and break the stillness of the moment, by kissing his collarbone. "What're you in the mood for, Angel?"  
  
Aziraphale was _sure_ there was a tease that he could put in here somewhere, but he decided to save it for later. All in good time. There were _some_ things that he wanted to do other than just stay in bed with Crowley. Not _many,_ at present, but they were certainly there. If he were a betting person, he'd say they'd be back to this at some point fairly soon, anyway.   
  
But Crowley was offering _food_ at the moment, and now that he had no distractions, he was beginning to realize that he felt rather peckish. Probably due to all the activity, if he had to guess.  
  
He laid there a moment, considering, and then offered the first thing that came to mind. "How about some pasta primavera?"  
  
Crowley nodded his assent. "Sure. Sounds like I won't have to cheat after all. Y'made it too easy for me." He laughed, pressing a kiss against the very tip of Aziraphale's nose. "You hungry _now?"_  
  
"Quite."  
  
"'Kay."  
  
Even with that said, it took another good bit of motivation gathering to move... but they eventually separated, got up, and dressed. With a sly look on his face, Crowley put on his tank top... _and_ the red tartan bottoms, to give Aziraphale something to look at while he cooked.  
  
As a result, he had to resist _very_ adamantly against the desire to simply pull his demon back into bed, at the in person sight of him in them, but after a few moments he managed.  
  
They went to the kitchen together, and Aziraphale settled himself in one of the high legged chairs at the counter, resting his cheek in his hand as he watched Crowley get to work. He did so quietly, so as not to be distracting, but he was directly shown that the love pouring out of him was still reaching Crowley, even as he busied himself with the various items on his list of meal preparation, due to the deep flush at the tips of his ears.  
  
Despite his best efforts, though, his mind eventually began to wander without conversation to keep him occupied. The white noise of Crowley chopping vegetables in the background kept him rooted in the room, at least.  
  
His fingers caressed the delicate, soft petals of the roses that sat in front of him, and he smiled fondly as he looked at them, remembering his trip into the flower shop on his way home and how excited he'd been to bring them to Crowley.   
  
It seemed he had been tangibly leaking love then, too, because the nice young lady in the shop had just instinctively seemed to know what he'd come for, before he'd even opened his mouth.  
  
Red roses were one of the few flowers that carried a near universal knowledge of their meaning in flower language, and they couldn't have been more perfect for his purposes, coming home after a long week apart from Crowley. They, of course, stood for passion, romance, and desire; all things he had been full to bursting with, by the time he had returned to London. Ultimately, they were charged with bearing the overall message 'I love you', and that message had been _very_ well received.  
  
There was a point in time, much more recently than he'd care to admit, that he was sure he'd _never_ get to do these classically romantic things for Crowley.  
  
It felt like he had wanted to _forever_, and his frustration over it had only compounded with time. Each meeting, whenever they'd spent time together over the past decade... he had so desperately wanted to give in to those urges to make explicitly romantic overtures. He had _suffered_ with the knowledge that he couldn't. At times the ache in his chest from the buildup of unreleased love had become full on physical.  
  
He was glad that assumption had been wrong, that they had gotten here, in the end, because the rush it gave him to be able to do them now was simply exquisite. It even had him feeling floaty as he thought about it.  
  
_"Shit!"_  
  
This caught Aziraphale's attention and his eyes focused again. He sat up straight, but couldn't see any problem upon the completion of his visual scan of the kitchen. "Dear?"  
  
Crowley just turned around to look at him, matter-of-factly stated "Flies like being on shit." and then went back to stirring the vegetables that were now cooking in the pan in front of him.  
  
As he stared at Crowley's back, slowly blinking, Aziraphale wondered if it was normal for someone to be to be so done and so in love, all at the same time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two back to back 10k+ chapters and my mind is blown  
I have no idea how this happened y'all  
I'm stressed. Is this what I do when I'm stressed? Write long chapters with smut? Probably 😂
> 
> I've been forgetting to drop my tumblr link more often than not lately so if you'd like to follow me/interact I'm over [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com) :P
> 
> Also!!! I have been blessed with art and I am still in shock. Big love to ShannonRene for [this great art](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21654625/chapters/56226880) of Crowley from chapter 29! They managed to make something PG out of my filth and that in itself is a talent lmfao


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That pride he held had led him to where he was now; Aziraphale on his arm, both of them beaming as they traipsed through the aisles of a tiny charity shop. Crowley's free hand gripped the handle of an equally tiny trolley, which he had been watching slowly fill up with knick-knacks and other silly little things Aziraphale found that struck his fancy. Really, it was a miracle that all of that junk fit into the basket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in a long time, I present to you a fluff break <strike>which I have written in an approximately 24 hour period because my brain is a monster that cannot be stopped</strike>  
Pls enjoy their cute date 🙏

Their date day had started off with that pre-planned trip to the zoo: the giraffe Crowley had befriended and claimed as their pet (which Crowley _very creatively_ named Geoffrey - completely ignoring the name given on the placard and actually being about half tempted to 'officially' change it - and he had been endlessly amused at Aziraphale's total lack of understanding of the reference) had been hanging out toward the back of the enclosure when they approached, but once he properly laid eyes on Crowley, hustled over to greet him, and did so by bopping Crowley's forehead with his snout, then promptly trying to eat his hair.  
  
Aziraphale had been instantly and deeply endeared to the creature after watching him do that, and they'd spent most of the morning with him as a result. By the time they'd made their exit, Geoffrey had taken to showering attention on the both of them, not just Crowley, and there were many photos snapped. It might've been silly, but Aziraphale truly felt the animal's approval, and he'd left the zoo with Crowley in high spirits.  
  
Brunch was the name of the game after that, and they'd barely made it to the cafe before lunch had full on taken over, but they did ultimately make it, and Aziraphale had been forced to admit - though it had greatly distressed him to do so - that Crowley's driving had saved them. Really, it was nothing that a bit of supernatural flexing wouldn't have fixed, but it was nice that they hadn't had to resort to that. Each in their own ways, they'd gotten used to bits of human schedule here and there, and it felt comfortable when they were able to adhere to them.  
  
As he ate, Aziraphale's hand had settled right next to the one Crowley had braced on the table, not holding it, not covering it, but rather sat there scarcely touching up against its edge. That soft, barely there touch was still scorching into his skin hours later.  
  
Crowley had, of course, made the painful decision to let himself be seen by the humans today, as funny as the image in his head had been; the very idea of Aziraphale talking to and interacting with thin air had him dying of laughter on the inside. He was extremely curious how Aziraphale would react to the humans thinking him mad, and thought it would be amusing as all get out, but he could play some little pranks on him later. They'd decided to make a whole day of this; these were all supposed to be proper date things they were doing, and he was more than proud to show off his angel, so he let his mischievous impulses fade out.  
  
That pride he held had led him to where he was now; Aziraphale on his arm, both of them beaming as they traipsed through the aisles of a tiny charity shop. Crowley's free hand gripped the handle of an equally tiny trolley, which he had been watching slowly fill up with knick-knacks and other silly little things Aziraphale found that struck his fancy. Really, it was a miracle that all of that junk fit into the basket.  
  
Precisely _whose_ miracle it was, Crowley couldn't really say. It could have been either of them, it could have been _both_ of them.  
  
He hadn't felt that telltale tug against his arm for a nice long moment - the one that he'd learned by now to use to signal him that Aziraphale was leaning to pick something up - so figured he must've been getting close to picking the place clean of everything he really liked.  
  
He took a peek inside their basket during the lull, to tally up what the blonde had piled in. He quickly got distracted from a full sweep, though. There were throw pillows taking up most of the real estate... three of them so far, and their designs were very wildly different; one had cutesy drawings of sushi, a soy sauce bottle, and chopsticks on it, bearing the text 'you're my soy mate', one had a large white feather in its foreground, and it helpfully declared 'spread your wings', and the third one depicted a pair of snakes nestled into some jungle-y plants.  
  
Really, as throw pillows went, they were pretty relevant to the two of them, and almost suspiciously so. Crowley did have to wonder how much of that was genuinely _just_ happenstance... but he figured he'd just keep that to himself. It wasn't important. Whether he was cheating at it or not, Aziraphale was quite clearly enjoying himself, picking out some little bits of decor for their flat, and Crowley was enjoying being along for the ride and watching him. He loved very few things as much as seeing Aziraphale happy.  
  
He was feeling fuzzy from more than just the mimosas he'd had at brunch, that was for sure.  
  
As they approached the counter, they saw to their dismay that the elderly woman who had been arguing with the shop staff and stormed out when they'd first entered had come back for a second go.  
  
After a couple of seconds of witnessing this abuse, Crowley had enough of it, and he was about to do something - a pure intent that Aziraphale must have felt crawling over him, because he put his hand on Crowley's arm with impeccable timing. "I'll finish up here, love. You can go and wait in the car, if you'd like to."  
  
This startled Crowley out of it, and his eyebrow quirked up over the top of his sunglasses. "You sure? You don't want me to stay and help you carry anything?"  
  
"I'll manage, dear. It's alright. There's not _that much_ here."  
  
"Well... okay." Crowley hummed, trudging his way to and out the shop door, but he didn't get in the car, and instead pulled his vape pen from his pocket and smoked it as he stood on the corner of the building, just to keep himself busy and keep up a natural appearance for any passerby until Aziraphale came out.  
  
Basically right on his heels, the old woman made her way out, grumbling to herself - he couldn't catch what she was saying, but it was likely something about 'the kids these days' - as she walked past him, simultaneously scrutinizing her receipt for any 'errors', and got into her boat of a vehicle. Another moment passed and then she drove off, and Crowley thought he hadn't truly felt the sentiment of 'good riddance' against a human like that for a couple of decades, at least.  
  
Her appearance had told him that Aziraphale would be soon to follow, though.  
  
When the angel actually appeared, he immediately sent the apparatus back to its place at the flat, where he had called it from, and moved over to open the car door for him. Aziraphale placed the two bags he held into the floorboard in the back of the car, supporting himself on the edge of the door while he leaned in, and his fingers brushed Crowley's. Though it seemed at least _mostly_ accidental, it was a slow, lingering touch, which saw Aziraphale's fingers catching on his, and it very much reminded him of the moment he'd handed that bag of books over.  
  
The additional reminder that his brain piped up with - of that being the moment Aziraphale said he'd realized he was in love with him - did things to his heart, and he did his best to get through seeing his angel into the car before circling around to follow suit.  
  
Something broke away from his control, when the car door closed behind him, and when he looked up at Aziraphale, he saw it reflected back at him.   
  
That little brush of affection and escape of a memory had hit both of them, apparently.  
  
Before he even had time to think, he'd given in to it and was leaning over, stretching lithely across the seat, reaching toward Aziraphale as if he was drawn by a magnet.  
  
His angel met him in the middle, and their lips crashed together. Once they'd made the switch to open mouthed kisses, Aziraphale tilted his head up for a better angle and deepened them even more, curling his tongue into Crowley's and rubbing them together just right, causing him to let out a tiny moan and raise his arms so he could wrap them around the back of Aziraphale's neck.   
  
Crowley's top half rested solidly against Aziraphale without his arms braced against the car to hold him up, but one of the angel's hands slipped into the back of his hair, and the other arm held him around the waist, keeping him anchored in place and further preventing him from tipping over. He let his thumb roam over the side of Crowley's neck, smoothing over and gently pressing at those lingering marks from their extra long night.  
  
It was all Crowley could do to keep himself from actually climbing over into Aziraphale's lap throughout what had turned into a heated makeout session, but he carefully stayed on his side of that line. Their chests were touching, heaving against each other, and he was holding onto Aziraphale, but that was where he had drawn said line for this particular moment.   
  
True escalation wasn't something he wanted to put on the table right now; throughout the day he'd maintained real intent to behave himself and keep things light. He was still occupying that headspace, for the most part, even if he'd given this one little bit of concession to his hormones.   
  
That, and he still hadn't given himself time to really... sit down and think about all of those other things yet. By now he had at least _mostly_ learned better than to go into something he wasn't 100% sure about. It had only gone very poorly when he'd made the decision to do so in the past.  
  
When he pulled his mouth away from Aziraphale's and opened his eyes again, he was both embarrassed and feeling the urge to laugh in equal measure. They'd steamed up the glass of the car, and at some point during his initial attempts to balance over Aziraphale, before he'd put his arms around him, he'd left a streaked handprint in it. There was a simply _iconic_ joke in there somewhere that he was almost certain Aziraphale wouldn't get. "Shit, sorry..." He gave in to one of those urges and laughed against him, pressing another tiny peck to Aziraphale's lips. "Guess all those little ways you've been touching me today worked on me more than I thought."  
  
"Don't apologize, now." Aziraphale replied, in that _one certain_ tone, briefly touching that quivering, fawning part of Crowley. "You say that as if you have to make an excuse... as if I don't very thoroughly enjoy kissing you, dear." His tone softened with that part, and he laughed too, gently stroking his hand through Crowley's hair. "I do, you know. I'm certain I must have told you, but it's one of my favorite things to do with you." He hummed, taking another peck for his own, as if to emphasize his point. "It may end up that way, normally, but doing it like this doesn't _always_ have to be a prelude to something heavier, love." He added, easily seeing right through to the reason that Crowley was offering an apology.  
  
Crowley had, of course, long since been aware of that. It was more than obvious, in this no-pressure relationship they'd built for themselves. The reminder that Aziraphale never expected anything of him made him brighten a bit to hear, though. "Yeah, 'course. I know."   
  
He separated from Aziraphale again, sort of reluctantly, but before he had time to settle on him and get lazy - therefore delaying the process of driving them home - and then made to begin said process. After the arrangements of starting the car were made, he offered his hand back to Aziraphale, who enthusiastically took hold of it.  
  
Crowley drove them back to Mayfair as normal - and perhaps even a bit _faster_ than that, if that was somehow possible. He was straight up _aching_ for a cuddle now, after this long day that had been positively filled to the brim with light brushes of skin - now topped off by that burst of untapped energy they'd just unleashed in those kisses - and he wanted to get it sooner rather than later. The way Aziraphale held his hand as he drove said that he would be very much on board with the idea.  
  
When they arrived in front of the flat, after he'd parked the car and shut it off, Crowley took a moment to stretch. The day had held more walking than he'd done in a while, and he was looking forward to lounging for the rest of the day.  
  
He turned around to face the back seat, where the bags were, and took stock again. He supposed it could be worse.  
  
He'd always been one for minimalism, which had explained the state of the flat when Aziraphale had moved in... but over time it had gotten cozier. The cold, almost sterile halls had an abundance of love in them now. Warmth. It was much more like a home than it had ever been before.  
  
Of course, it wouldn't have mattered if nothing had changed in the decor. The reason for the love bursting from every wall of that flat now was undoubtedly and very obviously Aziraphale. _He himself_ was the cause, and everything else that came with him - his books, his clothes, his _interesting_ taste in decoration - was just there to enhance the effects that he brought to the table.  
  
Crowley hummed to himself with that thought and reached out for the heavier bag, the one that contained the knick-knacks, but Aziraphale pulled it up before he could take it and exited the car in short order, leaving him with only the bag of pillows. He felt a bit put out, since he'd wanted to be a gentleman and carry the heavier burden for his angel, even though he knew it was absolutely no bother to Aziraphale. He probably could've lifted that amount of weight with his pinky toe, in fact, but it was the principle of the thing.  
  
He followed Aziraphale's path into the building, leaning against his side as they rode the lift up, and then rocketed out of it as the doors opened, leaving a stunned angel in his wake. Then Aziraphale was the one playing catch up, giving a hearty chuckle as he watched Crowley fumble to open the door and hold it for him, looking chuffed as all Hell that he'd managed to overtake him.  
  
Crowley moved into the flat and closed the door after Aziraphale had gone through, walking over and placing the bag he held onto the counter. He ditched his glasses as well before leaning back against the stone in a wide legged slouch. "That was fun. We should do it again."  
  
Aziraphale deposited the other bag in the same place, then stepped up in front of him, slipping into the gap between his legs and sliding his arms around Crowley's waist. "The zoo, brunch, shopping, or the kissing?"  
  
Crowley's grin got bigger as the list went on, and he leaned forward to press his forehead against his angel's. "All of it."  
  
This embrace wasn't the full on cuddle he was jonesing for, but it would do for now. This bit of attention would help him hold off until Aziraphale had finished with what he needed to do and was ready to lie down with him.  
  
Aziraphale rewarded him with a little kiss. "The rest of it, I get, but I didn't know you could enjoy watching me shop so much."  
  
Crowley rolled his eyes at him. _"Please_. I even like watching you sit and do nothing, Angel. You're nice to look at."  
  
Aziraphale's cheeks dusted pink. It was coming with time, but he still wasn't really used to Crowley's compliments on his physical form, and the fact that he knew Crowley _meant them_ with every fiber of his being only served to intensify that happy, squirming feeling inside him when they appeared.   
  
He believed them; Crowley's earnestness from the very start had worked to quickly bring him around to the idea that they were genuine, and perhaps more importantly than that, that he _deserved_ them. He'd been confident enough in his body, up to a point... but he'd never seen himself as _attractive_, necessarily, until he experienced firsthand how Crowley worshipped every part of him. "Oh, you unrepentant charmer." He said, smiling Crowley's favorite shy smile.  
  
Inspired, Crowley stole his own kiss at that. "I try, y'know. _Really_ gotta work at it. 'S not natural _at all_."  
  
Aziraphale just huffed out a laugh and nudged him with his elbow on his way to unwind from him and extract himself from between his legs. He then turned his attention to the bags and began to unpack them, first taking the pillows over to the sofa to arrange them just so.  
  
When he returned, Crowley had moved from his lounging position and into the kitchen proper.  
  
Seeing the opportunity, with him there, Aziraphale pounced on it. "Will you put away these mugs for me, dearest? I'll hand them to you."  
  
"Hm? Oh, sure."  
  
Little did Crowley know, he had just made a catastrophic error.  
  
And it was not, in fact, the _first_ catastrophic error he'd made that day, but the _second_. The _real_ first had been when he'd taken Aziraphale's suggestion to exit the charity shop and wait outside. He'd unwittingly enabled this flood of ceramics (and probably also some mind manipulation, though he couldn't say for certain) in that moment.  
  
The first couple of times, he hadn't paid much attention, just took the mugs from Aziraphale and placed them on the shelf on autopilot, but after a few it actually clicked that _every single time_ his hands emptied, another perfectly identical mug was occupying the space in short order. Soon he was helplessly watching the cupboard in front of him fill up with these clones of Aziraphale's very favorite mug... and, in fact, it had escaped his notice until just now, but there had already been _at least_ four in there to start with.  
  
The feed of the supply started to seem like it would never end, after a while, and he was being handed them so quickly and so often that he couldn't even check to see how many more were still to come.  
  
Well, that settled things, didn't it? Aziraphale had _definitely_ cheated at least a little bit.  
  
Crowley's grip on time deteriorated completely and was lost on the wind as he went through the repeated motions of placing mugs on the shelf, and it felt like it had been a literal eternity before he heard "Just one more, dear."  
  
"Alright, now you're just taking the pi-- oh." He was cut off mid-sentence when Aziraphale pressed the last one into his hands. It wasn't like the others.  
  
For a start, it was a normal mug, with a normal handle, not those tacky angel wings.  
  
He turned it around to look at the design, and his expression went flat. 'Snake it up', the mug cheerfully offered as its somewhat punny advice. To him, or to the snake painted around the circumference, he wasn't quite sure.  
  
He just shook his head at it, with a healthy snort for emphasis. "For fuck's sake, Angel."  
  
But... when he turned back toward the cupboard to place it in that last empty spot next to all the angel mugs, he was smiling anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The mug and pillows from the art I was graced with are now declared canon  
They killed me way too much not to lmfao
> 
> I thought these two deserved something cute and fluffy  
As do we all at this moment so I am here to provide :)
> 
> As ever I am also over [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com) if you would like to reach me directly/interact!


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd fallen into a sweet domestic bliss, together here, and these lazy days were Crowley's favorite. There was no pressure on them anymore... if they didn't feel an urge to do anything in particular, well, they didn't have to. They didn't have to be productive. They didn't even have to get out of bed _at all_ if they didn't want to. They could spend days, weeks, months, years... any amount of time at all, really, just enjoying each other's company. 

Aziraphale's schedule for opening the bookshop had gone more or less back to normal - that is to say, it was back to being completely random, and far better matched the sign out front than it had been doing in recent times, when he'd adopted a fairly consistent appearance rate.

But today he'd woken to a cold and dreary London, something which he didn't have the energy whatsoever to deal with, and so he'd said bugger it all and decided to stay home with Crowley instead. He'd crawled back into bed, to the clear delight of his demon, and they'd stayed there til past noon, cuddling while he read aloud to him for the first time in a while.

Once they finally dragged themselves out of bed, Crowley set to whipping up a midday meal for them. He quickly decided on something that was served hot, to stave off the cold of the day, even if they didn't have any plans for going out. 

From this seemingly innocuous decision, they'd made a discovery; it turned out that he could _make_ a mean bouillabaisse, even if he couldn't _say_ it sometimes.

While he ate, Aziraphale complimented him multiple times on the first fact, and teased him just as many times about the second.

After the meal was over, Crowley listened absently to the background noise of Aziraphale clearing the dishes from the table and stove, then cleaning them - something he had insisted upon doing, and doing it the human way this time, since Crowley had cooked the meal entirely that way. Effort to match effort, he'd called it.

They'd fallen into a sweet domestic bliss, together here, and these lazy days were Crowley's favorite. There was no pressure on them anymore... if they didn't feel an urge to do anything in particular, well, they didn't have to. They didn't have to be productive. They didn't even have to get out of bed _at all_ if they didn't want to. They could spend days, weeks, months, years... any amount of time at all, really, just enjoying each other's company. 

It sort of made Crowley wish he could travel through time, go back and give himself extra strength to hang on - to tell himself that this prize he'd earn from all the struggle, the pain, and the heartbreak was going to end up being more worth it than he could've ever imagined. 

He might go back to that last day, before he'd taken on Aziraphale's appearance, and drill into his own head how _imperative_ it was that he stay his hand against Gabriel, no matter how badly he was going to want to rip him to pieces in the moment. He would never get this, otherwise.

"Crowley?"

"Hm?"

He felt the light touch of Aziraphale's hand settling on top of his, and looked up to see that he'd sat back in the chair next to him. "You look like you have something on your mind, sweetest."

"Mm. Yeah, guess I do." He frowned at the table, but forced his expression to soften as he looked up at Aziraphale. "I wanna talk to you. About Gabriel... about what happened then."

It felt like it had been a long time coming. He had the feeling that he wanted to talk about this in depth several times already, but hadn't found the right moment yet. He was hedging his bets that this was it.

"You'd like to properly trade stories?"

Crowley nodded slowly. "Yeah. What d'you think? Can we?"

"Of course, dear." When he considered it, they probably should've done it several times over already. Other things had just taken precedence, and it had gotten pushed back. "Would you like to do this... officially?"

"I think so, yeah." It had been a little while since they'd done any talking in that certain highly structured way... and he couldn't help but think there were probably things buried in these stories that would expose wounds that needed to be tended to.

Aziraphale rose, without further prompting, and went to draw the needed lines in the middle of the floor in the front room. Crowley watched him do so, as he had many times before, and then pulled himself up onto his feet to go and join him at the opposite side once he'd settled into his customary spot.

Aziraphale drew Crowley's hands into his own, once he was seated, opting to hook their fingers together this time. He turned Crowley's hands a bit to the side, making it so he could idly run his thumb across the knuckles.

"Admittedly, I believe I've already told you most of my side of the story." He said. Thinking about it, he wasn't sure there was much else of any importance that he could tell Crowley. He'd told him the funny bits - his one liners about the rubber duck and the bath towel, for instance - _and_ the not so funny bits - his fears over what might've happened if they hadn't figured it out, his worries about what Crowley had been going through at the time. "I'm not sure there's much more for me to add, other than incidental details."

"Well... _I've_ definitely got some stuff to talk about, at least."

Aziraphale managed to find a chuckle in him somewhere. "So I've gathered."

"First thing I really remember is they tied me to a chair."

This caught Aziraphale's attention immediately. For one, he hadn't known them to do such a thing, and for two... "How did they do it?"

"Uh, well... they tied my wrists to the chair arms. Fairly standard stuff for a kidnapping, I guess."

"And, is that going to bother you, do you think?"

Crowley tilted his head slightly, caught off guard by the question. "How d'you mean?"

"I mean, if _I_ were to tie you down that way, do you think you'll be okay with that? It's not going to... upset you, is it?"

Crowley's mouth fell open. He hadn't even remotely considered that before. It hadn't crossed his mind at all, somehow. Of course Aziraphale would latch onto that... the more information he had, the better he'd be able to perform those tasks.

But, after a couple of seconds of reflection, he was shaking his head. "Nah. The thought of it doesn't bother me like that, 'n besides, 'm sure I'll be too busy with other things to be thinking about it in the first place."

If it was Aziraphale getting tied down... _then_ it might bother him, but as their negotiated arrangement stood, he was confident that he'd be fine without the need for additional precautions on top of the ones Aziraphale was already going to be putting in place.

The angel nodded in acknowledgement, then moved to steer the conversation back onto its intended path. "Now, there's this one certain part of the conversation I'm particularly interested in hearing about... _clearly_ it bothered you. You've mentioned it several times now."

Crowley snorted. "Yeah. He was talking about how with one act of treason I - you, I guess - averted the war everybody'd been looking forward to, the bloodthirsty fucks. I started to feed him some line about the greater good and that's when he said it."

"What _exactly_ did he say?"

"He said 'Don't talk to me about the greater good, sunshine, I'm the Archangel fucking Gabriel.' like the right pompous fucking asshole he is." His eyes hardened, and Aziraphale felt some tight tension work its way into him, via their clasped hands. "Speaking of assholes, some no name demon brought the _stuff_ up so they could use it, y'know? And this insignificant speck... he asked if he could hit me. He was asking if he could hit _you_. He'd always wanted to hit an angel, he said."

Aziraphale listened, still as stone.

_"He_ didn't give the go ahead, our good pal Gabriel, but that's what he had Sandalphon on deck for, innit? Sandalphon was more than fucking happy to say 'go for it'." There was a flit of something feral over his eyes, and Aziraphale's brows knit together as he watched him, slightly concerned. "I had to fight so hard, Angel. Everything in me wanted to take that little shit apart for even _thinking_ about hurting you. But he didn't know it wasn't you, did he? None of them did, that was the whole point. I let a little bit of me out then, y'know. Guess I couldn't help myself. Only he was close enough to see, though. Looked right down into his soul and _dared_ him to hit me. Scared him shitless, 'n he changed his mind pretty fast. He didn't want any of whatever was sitting in front of him."

Aziraphale still didn't speak, but that was more due to needing to digest the information than anything else.

"Believe it or not, though... that wasn't the one that really got me." Crowley huffed out a laugh, like he could hardly believe it himself, either.

"Oh?" Aziraphale prompted, though he knew he probably didn't need to in this particular instance.

Crowley's jaw set into a hardened line as he thought about it, as the moment played before his eyes like it was happening right then and there. "Mm-mm. What _really_ got me was the last thing that purple eyed prick said. He said 'Shut your stupid mouth and die already'. He gave me this fake ass smile, but it didn't stay on his face. He looked at me like... I don't even know how to describe it. He was looking at you like you didn't deserve to exist in the first place. Honestly, I dunno what kept me from snapping right then. I was fucking _furious_, Angel. _Already_, from the punching bag thing... was like he poured salt in the wound then."

Two distinct sets of emotions rose up inside of Aziraphale at once; pride and a powerful affection, at the idea of Crowley defending him and his honor, and also disgust, with the accompaniment of a cold, sinking feeling of rejection. 

It was always obvious that he wasn't Gabriel's favorite person, not by a long shot... he was damn near everything an angel shouldn't be, and though he covered that with his excuses of blending in, he really wasn't very good about wanting to do his job either, so it sort of made sense that he would frustrate his boss. But still... he'd never imagined Gabriel could hate him so much that he'd flat out, explicitly wish him _death_, 'treason' or no.

"I would've pulled off his arm and beat him with it, if I could've. I would've fucking _eviscerated_ him, I know it." Crowley continued on, laying bare the extent of his fury. It was in his eyes, in his tone, and in the curl of his lip, baring his teeth too. "And god, did I want to. I _really_ fucking wanted to. The other two wouldn't have been able to do a damn thing to stop me." He sighed deeply, pushing out the tension along with it and finally easing up. "But, shit... it was _working_. We were so close to being free. Something in me knew I couldn't do it. I _couldn't_ fuck this up. 'M thankful to whatever that thing was, 'cause I've got no idea."

Aziraphale truly understood in this moment that Crowley _could_ have been a real terror, had he been birthed as a demon with any sort of real motivation to do his job. He was thankful that wasn't the case. He liked his Crowley best the way he was; fairly mild in temperament, sarcastic as anything, and with a tendency to be lazy. This hypothetical version of him didn't even bear thinking about for another moment, and not only because it was sort of frightening.

Crowley's thumb ran across the softest part of Aziraphale's palm, over the thickest part of his hand. "You never really answered me when I asked you before... did they always treat you like that, Angel?"

Aziraphale's face fell, and it gave Crowley his answer before he even started speaking. "It wasn't _always_ as bad as what you saw, I suppose... but the contempt itself was there from near the beginning, yes. Especially in Gabriel's case, but I wouldn't say that any of them liked me very much. In fact, they were hassling me, myself, just before everything kicked off. Michael came, bringing Uriel and Sandalphon, when the lot of them put together what we'd been up to. With those two known enforcers present, the conversation - if you want to call it that - went as you'd expect... they roughed me up a bit."

Crowley gave another involuntary little snarl at that news. The two of them had been present at the attempted execution and participated in the kidnapping, as well as accosting him on the street? How much suffering did they want to put him through? Did that bunch hate him _that much_ for being different? "You didn't tell me that before."

"I didn't see the need. I'm fine, dear. I can take a punch."

Crowley's frown deepened at that, the wrinkles in his forehead becoming more severe. Of course he could take a punch, that wasn't the issue. He knew Aziraphale wouldn't fold that easily, under so little, even from an Archangel. That particular factor of the situation wasn't why he was upset by it, and he was sure Aziraphale was aware of that. "'S that supposed to make me feel better?"

"No... I suppose not." Aziraphale raised his hand to gently stroke the short hair above Crowley's ear. "But, really... I'm quite alright. They didn't cause any lasting damage. You needn't worry, love."

Something in his reassurances placated Crowley, and he calmed back down, but not before stubbornly pitching forward to gently, affectionately headbutt Aziraphale. "Yeah, well, they're shit. You didn't deserve that for anything, let alone for trying to do what's right." He huffed through his nose. "Think they better be thankful you don't like violence. You could wipe the floor with 'em."

Aziraphale looked at him, eyes soft with fondness, and let his hovering hand settle against Crowley's shoulder, then pressed a tiny kiss against his lips. "They did have just one thing right, though."

"Huh?"

"They called you my 'boyfriend in the dark glasses'." Aziraphale laughed, remembering it. It had been used as part of a threat, but even in that moment, he hadn't been able to completely squash down the rush that notion had put into his heart.

"Ngk."

"You know, it might have been hard, but you got through it... and so did I." Crowley had a feeling he wasn't just talking about the trial, here, but didn't interrupt. "It sounds like it was a downright Herculean effort on your part, but you managed, didn't you? I'm proud of you for holding back your impulses and abstaining from violence - rightful though it may have been. Just knowing that you wanted to defend me like that, even with the stakes as high as they were... that's more than enough for me, dear. I love you so very much, and that knowledge does nothing but add to it."

Seeing that things were just about finished, for the moment, he made to properly end the session.

"I'm sorry I ever called you stupid." 

It hit Crowley, as Aziraphale let the circle drop, and he allowed the words to tumble right out of him, bypassing any type of filter. 

Knowing Gabriel - seeing firsthand how he'd treated Aziraphale, and hearing these additional accounts... he was almost _certain_ that the other angels, or at least Gabriel and his cohorts, probably had a penchant for insulting him. They'd bullied him, surely, and not just during the course of this one physical incident. He'd almost bet money on him having been called stupid at some point - no, probably repeatedly - even though he was far from it.

Actual, theoretical, book-learned intelligence aside, his _practical_ intelligence was arguably more impressive than even that, and he was so clever in everything he did. He could work things out in a snap that Crowley couldn't have even if he had a couple thousand years to think about them. He knew - or could usually figure out in two attempts or less - how ideas connected, how he could play a concept against another one to achieve the result he was after. These facts had been shown quite clearly since he'd begun to help Crowley work on himself. Aziraphale was _so far_ from stupid.

And truly, Crowley _was_ sorry, especially if he'd played a part - for even a second - in making Aziraphale believe he fell short. It had been a thing he'd said in the heat of the moment, while he'd been in a state of meltdown, essentially. He was freaked out about everything that was happening, terrified of losing Aziraphale... but _he_ had still said it - it wasn't someone else. It might not have been an _entirely_ conscious choice, but it had come out of his own mouth, and he had to own that. He couldn't make excuses or pretend it didn't happen.

But Aziraphale just smiled at him. "Shh. None of that, now." His touch was soothing against Crowley's hands, and stayed that way even as his expression melted into something more serious. "I deserved it, Crowley. It was rude, yes, but I think it was still a valid way for you to feel. I may not _be_ stupid, but I was certainly acting that way at the time." He'd been so blinded by his convictions that he wouldn't see the truth that Crowley had tried so hard to dangle right in front of his face until it was too late. That definitely seemed like a pretty stupid way to be, to him, especially given that he was able to look back on it now. "You might not have done it in the most eloquent way, but I don't blame you for pointing that out in your frustration, and you know I've already long since forgiven you."

In the same moment, and quite famously, in fact. Of course Crowley wouldn't be able to forget that. He never would be. Those three words - I forgive you - had been a cold shock to his overheated system that he hadn't been able to deal with at the time.

The reminder melted him, but not completely. He had one more thing to air out, when it came to this. "I just... I don't wanna make you feel the way they made you feel. Not ever. If I did, for even a second, I'd feel horrible."

He knew precisely how it felt to not be wanted, to be considered the black sheep, to be abused... he never wanted any of that for Aziraphale, at the very least for it to happen by his own hand.

Aziraphale's smile came back in force, crinkling the corners of his eyes. "There's no need for you to worry about that, darling. You've done no such thing. Don't be unfair to yourself by comparing anything you've said to _them_. We've certainly had our disagreements in the past, and plenty of them, but you've _never_ been abusive to me. I'm quite certain you don't even have that in you. I've said that before, I believe."

"You have."

"Well, it's no less true in this moment than it was then." He said, moving his hand up to hold Crowley's unruly hair back so he could press a kiss to his forehead. "What would you like to do now, dear?"

Crowley looked at him blankly, unable to come up with a true desire to do much of anything. "Dunno. Wanna watch something?"

"Sure. That seems like the perfect use for a day like this, I think."

"Yeah." Crowley hummed, rising from his seat with intent to go into the kitchen. "Go on 'n get comfortable. I'll make some tea."

Aziraphale followed him to stand as well. "Is there anything in particular that you'd like to watch, love?"

Crowley waved his hand flippantly. "Mm-mm. Don't care, you pick."

Aziraphale laughed, ruffling his hair as he walked by. "Alright."

After he watched Aziraphale disappear into the office, he set to work.

Crowley was in a mood to do things the long way today, apparently, so he made the tea in that fashion, retrieving his mug as well as one of those god forsaken angel wing mugs, and distributing the liquid into them once it had finished steeping. He prepared the cups - Aziraphale's with cream and a sprinkling of sugar, the way he seemed to prefer it, and his own with only sugar, but lots of it. 

He had a secret sweet tooth, but he'd figured out long ago that he could hide any additions of sugar and pretend he drank his tea without anything in it if he didn't add any cream. That had almost always been his game... though Aziraphale had sniffed him out a while back, and had simply decided not to comment on the matter. It was one of those things he found ridiculously endearing about Crowley that he held close to his chest and kept for himself.

When Crowley entered the office, he found Aziraphale already stretched out on the sofa, waiting for him. The gap that was purposely left between his legs was calling the demon's name.

Crowley set down the mugs, then climbed in and settled in that very spot, making himself comfortable by resting his head back against him and tugging a blanket down to cover them, lying there placidly as Aziraphale somewhat clumsily continued to scroll through the options on the screen.

Everything about his presence; the sound of him breathing, the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, the steady beat of his heart, his scent... it all lulled Crowley into a deep sense of security immediately, and he quickly zoned out. He almost fell asleep a couple of times, in that comfortable space, but managed to keep himself awake somehow.

"Oh, this one looks rather endearing." He suddenly heard the angel say, through the fuzziness he'd sunk into.

Crowley stirred himself into a slightly more conscious state, but didn't look up right away, so he didn't realize what the other had chosen until he heard the beginning of a familiar beat, and an equally familiar voice joyously singing 'Thank you for being a friend'.

He was certainly awake after that. He had watched all seven seasons of this particular program too many times to even begin to guess at a number.

This was his very favorite show, really. There was no other way to put it. But... they'd never talked about it, obviously, so he had to wonder if the selection was just luck or if it was pure intuition. Suddenly a part of him was suspicious that Aziraphale somehow _knew_. How he would've found out was a mystery, but still.

Regardless of the circumstances, he would just pretend that Aziraphale had chosen at random, because he would never, _ever_ admit it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which the boi finally gets to vent his anger about what a shitty person Gabriel is and then they get some quality Golden Girls time which he most definitely does not enjoy with his entire being 👀
> 
> Admittedly I am very emotionally drained and burnt out (due to work things in my case) as I do think most people probably are at this point  
I'll spare y'all all the gory details but basically it sucks when you work with 7 other people and you're lucky if even 4 of them show up at the moment because everyone's just using their PTO at random lmfao  
A bitch is tired but the cute husbands content is still flowing so far!
> 
> With this chapter we've officially passed 200k word count which is W I L D and I still can't wrap my head around it honestly
> 
> A lot of new comments came in over this past week, in various places throughout the fic, and I wanna thank you guys so much for that! I always love to hear from readers and I will answer them as soon as I've recovered the mental fortitude to do so properly <3
> 
> You can get at me on tumblr [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com)!


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley once again wondered how he'd gotten into the situation he currently found himself in. He was sitting on one side of a square table with Aziraphale, and on the other side sat Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy.

Crowley once again wondered how he'd gotten into the situation he currently found himself in. He was sitting on one side of a square table with Aziraphale, and on the other side sat Sergeant Shadwell and Madame Tracy.

Aziraphale had told him they were going to have lunch with someone, but had left out the 'who' until they were literally walking into the restaurant.

They had ordered their food, and were currently waiting on it to arrive. As a result of the seating arrangement, he had been looking across at a suspiciously cowed Shadwell for about 15 minutes so far. Honestly, the man looked like a wet dog... and smelled a bit like one too.

Amazingly, it would ultimately be that very same man who finally broke the silence that had fallen over the table after the initial pleasantries had been exchanged.

Shadwell glanced between the two of them a few times before he spoke up. "So, eh... 'ave you two _always_ been--"

It was a surprising question, one he never would've expected out of _Shadwell_ of all people, and Crowley went to open his mouth to give _some_ kind of answer, but didn't have the chance. 

"Yes." Said Aziraphale, firmly and somewhat sharply, looking Shadwell straight in the eye. It was sort of like an offshoot of that one certain tone he used that made Crowley into goo, and he did his best not to let it get to him too much, though it was difficult.

The following silence that fell over the table was extremely awkward.

Shadwell didn't respond verbally, but looked cowed, nodding as he quickly dropped his gaze to the table. Crowley got the sense that there were layers to this interaction that he didn't understand, and couldn't unless he asked, which he obviously wasn't going to do at the moment. He wasn't socially inept - he couldn't have gotten by for as long as he did if he had been. Obviously there'd been words exchanged between the two of them that he wasn't aware of, but he could get that context out of Aziraphale later, rather than calling them both out in public.

By the way Tracy was patting his arm across the table from them, simultaneously giving Aziraphale an apologetic look, it seemed like Crowley was the only one that was out of the loop.

But even without the full scope of things, he _did_ think that at least part of this reaction was likely because of the polka dotted, dancing elephant in the room: They'd both had the same business dealings with Shadwell. They'd paid him extraordinary sums of money, each believing they had a vast network of agents at the ready at any moment, and it had turned out that the so called 'Witchfinder Army' had consisted of Shadwell himself, and one very new, awkward recruit.

To say they'd been shortchanged was an understatement, and all parties were aware of the facts, now. He'd been caught out, and somehow he had the wits about him to be ashamed of himself, or at least that was how it seemed to Crowley.

He felt Aziraphale hold his hand tighter, and it brought him back to the moment, reminded him he had things to say. That, and he was feeling like he needed to break this sudden tension. It was becoming uncomfortable. "Uh... Madame Tracy?"

She smiled kindly at him. "_Just_ Tracy, if you don't mind, dearie. Gave up that whole thing."

"Er... sure. I just, um... wanted to say thanks."

"For...?"

It struck him suddenly that he wasn't sure how much of the events they remembered. He'd been under the assumption they wouldn't remember _anything_, but it definitely seemed like they did, and the way Aziraphale was acting did nothing to indicate he thought they didn't. "For... helping Aziraphale, when he needed help." He said, vaguely, leaving her to pick up or not pick up on what he was saying. He was also thankful the other two couldn't quite see his eyes when they flicked over to meet Aziraphale's, though he knew the angel himself could.

She laughed jovially in response. "Oh, that? You don't need to thank me, Mister Crowley."

Crowley shook his head, unwilling to accept the platitude, and also taking it as an indication that she _did_ remember "I kinda do, though... you did that seance stuff for a long time, I'm sure. You knew how to put him out again, but you didn't. You chose to help him instead." He stopped, considered his next words, then swallowed down his nerves in preparation to deliver them. "He... means a lot to me, y'know? Everything, really. He wouldn't be here now... he wouldn't have been able to come back at all if it wasn't for you."

She had played a bigger part in the course of things than most others probably would've given her credit for. Not Crowley, though. He knew her worth, everything she'd done... he was so thankful to her. He knew Aziraphale was sort of attached to her, more than he'd been to any other human in the past several centuries... how could he not be, after what they'd gone through together? But _he_ had his own little soft spot for her, too. He didn't know how many years she had left to walk the Earth, but he was certain that they would be good for her. And, since he expected them to be, they would be. That went double, because he was sure Aziraphale had the same expectation.

If that happiness had to include Shadwell as part of the package, he supposed there were worse things. They weren't friends, never had been, but he'd always at least been on neutral to positive terms with the old man.

Tracy reached across and patted Crowley's hand that laid on the table. "You don't look like it, but you're a sweet one, aren't you?" Her tone of voice said that she realized it was by design.

Crowley wanted to protest, to attempt to keep up his image, but didn't have the heart to do it against her. He suspected that she wouldn't accept it, anyway.

He was getting too much good energy from the way Aziraphale was silently beaming beside him, too.

The food came, letting him off the hook, and the conversation became a bit more lighthearted throughout the actual meal. Tracy talked with Aziraphale about how things were at the bookshop, and Crowley did his best at coming up with answers about 'his father' on the fly. Thankfully, this also kept him distracted from staring at Aziraphale while he ate.

They both accepted hugs from Tracy on parting, and Aziraphale made it a point of offering his hand to Shadwell. It was a gesture of goodwill, and one Shadwell seemed to thoroughly understand, because he pushed past his timidness and took the offered hand, giving it a solid shake.

A few 'I enjoyed myself', 'we should do this again sometime' and 'have a safe trip home's later, they actually went their separate ways.

Now, Crowley wasn't quite as observant as Aziraphale himself was, could never claim to be, but he would've had to be pretty damn thick to miss the fact that he'd been somewhat off during lunch. Something was up, and he needed to find out what.

He'd tried to come up with a way to broach the subject on the drive home, but hadn't managed. It took him up until they were in the flat and settled, standing in the kitchen together, before he threw an attempt at it.

"Angel, what happened with Shadwell?"

"What do you mean, love?"

"What were you looking at him like that for?"

"Ah." Aziraphale took a sip of his tea before answering. "I simply wished to _quietly_ inform him that I wasn't going to tolerate any disrespect."

"Huh?"

"I have suspicions that Tracy is helping him be better, but he's historically been... well, quite bigoted. There's no other way to put it."

Crowley just stared. Granted, his interactions with Shadwell had been quite limited, for the most part. From what he knew of him, he could definitely see it being the case, but the only reason he could think of that Aziraphale would know that was... "Was he rude to you?"

"Not always. Well, not always in the way that it mattered. He's a bit of a rude man to begin with, isn't he?" Aziraphale waved his hand dismissively at that idea. It wouldn't have bothered him one bit if that had been all it was. He wasn't _that_ sensitive. "He's always had a habit of casually calling me 'Southern Pansy'." It wasn't the _worst_ thing in the world, granted, and he knew he came off a certain way. That was completely by design. He couldn't show much of his true self to his fellow angels... he could only let himself _be himself_ when he was among the humans - until they'd gained their freedom, he hadn't even been able to do so with Crowley. 

To have Shadwell treat him that way and call him those kinds of names because of how he chose to present himself... he didn't have it as hard as a human in the same situation, but it still bothered him a little bit, though, and he let himself feel that. There was no hierarchy for feeling bad. Just because others suffered more didn't mean he wasn't allowed to feel his own problems.

"Oh."

It clicked all at once. Aziraphale had been _warning_ Shadwell, in case he had been thinking of making any untoward comments about him or their relationship. Not only was _he_ not going to tolerate it, he knew it would make Crowley angry if he heard that, and he'd wanted to keep the peace.

"I also hoped he might shape up, and stop acting so... mopey."

Crowley frowned at that. "What's that got to do with you?"

Well, that was the million dollar question, wasn't it. With it, the atmosphere tangibly shifted.

He would have to answer, one way or the other.

The question then became, was he going to lie? Was he going to _directly_ cover this up now? A lie of omission wasn't as egregious as a direct, spoken lie.

But they were still both lies, weren't they? What difference did it make?

"I..." Aziraphale started, then stopped again, with a sigh, putting his teacup down. There was a moment of silence, accompanied by that obvious internal struggle, before he opened his mouth back up. "There's something I need to go over with you, Crowley."

"What...?"

Aziraphale frowned, but it wasn't a disappointed frown. It was one of his worried frowns. "I think, my darling... it has come time for me to fill in the rest of the blanks as far as what happened on Armageddon Day. If we are indeed going to..." He trailed off again, paused, then shook his head. "Even if we _weren't_, I'd need to be completely open with you, but especially since we _are_. It isn't fair of me to let you leave yourself so vulnerable to me until I've been completely forthcoming."

"How d'you mean, Angel?"

Aziraphale caught the nervousness in his voice, and hurried to shut it down. "The two subjects aren't directly related, but it's the principle behind the whole thing. I've since learned things that I haven't told you, and it's been bothering me, especially during the course of this day. I _know_ that I have to tell you. In truth, I've been keeping this from you for a time, and I do very sincerely apologize for that. I wouldn't blame you at all if you were upset with me for breaking my word." He hid his face in his hands, pressing his palms hard against his cheeks. "I'm _afraid_, Crowley. I've been anxious that it may hurt your recovery, and you've been doing so well with things lately. I don't want to set you back. I know it wasn't my choice to make--"

Crowley placed his hand on top of one of Aziraphale's, after a second, cutting him off before he had a chance to go fully neurotic. It centered his attention immediately, and through that tender touch alone, he could tell that the demon wasn't angry with him for holding the information back. 

But then... Crowley was, for the most part, a fairly pragmatic person. He of all people could understand that there was a reason behind it, even if he didn't know what it was yet. "Tell me." He said, gently taking both of the angel's hands away from their current resting places, holding him tenderly around his wrists.

"This isn't the first time I've seen Sergeant Shadwell since. He came into the bookshop one day."

Crowley's brows furrowed. "What did he want?"

"He wanted to apologize for what had happened. You see, he came into the shop after I'd closed on The Last Day... I'm not sure if he broke in, or how he ended up inside. I _swear_ I'd locked the doors. Crowley, I _know_ I must've done. There's no way I wouldn't, with what I'd been planning to do. But... so much happened that day that I'm not even sure anymore." There was a raw edge to his voice that Crowley had rarely heard before, and he didn't move or speak, able to feel that this unfurling tale was important.

"There used to be a gateway to Heaven in the bookshop. I used it to try and contact the Almighty, but wasn't able to get through to Her directly. I did reach someone, though... and I had to believe that was better than nothing. I tried to get them to call off the war, I told them I knew a way that everyone could be saved. They... well, they sort of broke me, right there. I'd been so hopeful, only to be told that 'the point isn't to avoid the war, the point is to win it', in those words. They still expected me to come to Heaven, they wanted me to fight. But I'd said that I needed to tie up some loose ends first. The gateway was left open for me." Aziraphale swallowed. This still felt like an admission of guilt, even though he now knew for a fact he wasn't the one at fault for the fire. "The issue stemmed from the fact that I had to light some candles to activate it. To Shadwell, apparently - paired with the open gate itself - that had looked... demonic. He burst in to exorcise me."

Crowley huffed in disbelief. "You're fucking _joking_ me, right?"

"I wish I were, my dear." Aziraphale sighed. "I was afraid he'd cross the boundary and be sheared from his body, meeting an untimely end, so I tried to block him from it while assuring him that by no means was I a demon... and in the process of protecting him, I... well, I ended up accidentally backing into it myself."

Crowley made a noise like he'd taken a punch to the gut from a heavyweight boxer, and he had to let go of Aziraphale's wrists to drop down to the floor right where he stood. His legs couldn't hold him anymore. "That's... Jesus bloody Christ. I can't even wrap my head around that." He admitted, looking just as dazed as he sounded. 

Aziraphale tended to him immediately, gingerly getting him back up enough that he could conjure a chair into the space under him, then procured one for himself, too. He faced Crowley, and placed his hands lightly onto his knees.

One of Crowley's hands rose, rubbing at his face, and very suddenly he understood Aziraphale's desire to do the same thing, a few moments ago. He paused, looking at the angel with his hand on his forehead, holding up his fringe. "So... _that's_ how you got discorporated?"

Aziraphale nodded, defying his every instinct to force himself to meet Crowley's eyes. "And then, after he apologized, he told me..." His hands balled into fists, and he felt the sweat, already heavy in his palms, but he could do this. He _had_ to do this. 

_Communication is key_ was a mantra that had been drilled into his head, over and over, through the things that he'd read... and it had been something that he'd been throwing a solid effort to follow anyway, all along. He had tried to, and been mostly successful at, beating back that part of himself that was so used to lying.

This was the only thing he had _truly_ struggled with, but it had to end now. Not only for the sake of starting off with a clean slate in this new venture, but because deep down he'd known the entire time that Crowley simply deserved to know.

Even if it broke Crowley, he could help reforge him again. It wouldn't be the first time, and probably wouldn't be the last, either.

No matter what, he needed to know the truth.

"He told me... how the fire started."

The room was so silent and still in the moments after that you could probably hear the sound of a speck of dust hitting the floor.

At first, Crowley didn't comprehend those seven words properly. 

Shadwell told Aziraphale how the fire started? How could he have known that, unless... he was involved in it?

He'd thought Aziraphale was a demon. Had he done it on purpose, to 'purge the evil'? Even if they'd found the 'Witchfinder Army' was far different than what they'd been lead to believe, it still had roots in that sort of thing. Agnes Nutter herself had been burned at the stake for that same reason. Even in normal circumstances, Crowley had a certain amount of respect for her for taking her aggressors down with her.

"What did he do?" Crowley asked, and almost didn't recognize his own voice. In its undertones it held a quiet fury, one that he was trying hard to keep a handle on.

"You mustn't be angry with him, Crowley. He was frightened." Came the hastily presented plea.

Crowley didn't give, though. For once, this wasn't something Aziraphale's influence could do anything about. He would make his own decision on whether or not he was going to let himself off the leash and really get angry. "I asked you what he did, Aziraphale. Tell me." He demanded, then caught himself being short with him, and added "Please." in a slightly softened tone.

The usage of his given name, in lieu of 'Angel', brought home to him that Crowley was deadly serious. "He... well, he said he slammed the door behind him when he made his exit, and he posited that he knocked one of the candles off of its pedestal in that moment. I was already gone then, but that line of thought made sense to me. That's all it would have taken, I expect."

So, that was it. Whether he'd meant to or not, Shadwell started the fire. 

_He'd_ sent Aziraphale to Heaven.

A twitch appeared in the corner of Crowley's mouth, and his top lip curled up into a sneer.

This... _all of this_, had been caused by a human bumbling through and meddling with matters he had no business in, riding on a false sense of righteousness.

He wished he could say he was genuinely surprised by that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You didn't think I was going to let them get kinky without making them deal with this, did you? :P
> 
> The back half of April was not very enjoyable for me and I needed to take some time away from things  
But I have a reward for you guys for being patient with me! [Here's](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24009040) a bonus side story I wrote after being inspired by the Lockdown video that came out a few days ago. Enjoy <3


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It took quite some time to digest what he had been told, and even more time to bring himself back to calm, but somehow Crowley had managed.
> 
> At first, his mind had gone completely blank, shutting down to protect itself, presumably. 
> 
> That blind fury had hit him in such a hard and fast flash that it had caused him to temporarily dissociate. He was there but he _wasn't_ at the same time. He just kind of floated in the nearby vicinity.
> 
> Thankfully the sensation _hadn't_ come hand in hand with a panic attack, like the last time he'd had an 'out of body' experience like this, but there were a few moments where there was nothing but uncertainty as to what was going to happen when he came back to inhabit his head again.
> 
> His initial reaction upon his resumption of control over himself had ended up very decidedly on the bad end of that sliding scale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sup y'all! I've gotta be honest, most of this chapter (and actually it's the first of a pair... I once again had to split it up because I went crazy) was done last week and I could've stuck to my schedule, but I decided to give it some additional time to bake and fine tune it some more since the content involved here was really important for me to try to get right.
> 
> I'm pretty confident in it now! All I can really say is I've done my best 😂

It took quite some time to digest what he had been told, and even more time to bring himself back to calm, but somehow Crowley had managed.

At first, his mind had gone completely blank, shutting down to protect itself, presumably. 

That blind fury had hit him in such a hard and fast flash that it had caused him to temporarily dissociate. He was there but he _wasn't_ at the same time. He just kind of floated in the nearby vicinity.

Thankfully the sensation _hadn't_ come hand in hand with a panic attack, like the last time he'd had an 'out of body' experience like this, but there were a few moments where there was nothing but uncertainty as to what was going to happen when he came back to inhabit his head again.

His initial reaction upon his resumption of control over himself had ended up very decidedly on the bad end of that sliding scale.

The first thoughts he had after that had been only about how he could best punish Shadwell for all the shit he'd caused. He had been totally consumed with it, briefly.

_Very_ briefly, because he'd caught himself doing so and shoved all of that right out, a bit horrified that he'd gotten there in the first place. 

He had never really been one for violence, wasn't his style. But... occasionally he'd had these flashes, and they always came down to Aziraphale. The angel really was his berserk button, and especially now. He would rip the entire blessed universe in two in order to keep him safe, and Somebody help any being that tried to hurt him.

But that was the thing about Shadwell - he _hadn't_ tried. He didn't know what he'd done, hadn't a clue. He didn't know all that he'd been the catalyst for. He hadn't done any of it intentionally.

He was just a mad, superstitious old man, nothing more, nothing less.

That fact didn't stop Crowley from feeling very bitter toward him, and he doubted anything would - even if the domino effect he'd caused had all been an accident - but it _did_ stop his thoughts of gratuitous torture pretty quickly.

Perhaps he couldn't necessarily _forgive_ him, not entirely... but the desire for some type of vengeance faded, at least. The urge to rain Hell down on him dissipated quickly after the initial burst.

Logic won him over, in the end, and that only proved to him one thing: how truly brilliant Aziraphale was. His teachings - the many concepts he had impressed upon Crowley - had truly begun to rearrange the very structure of his mind. Dare he think it, the angel's consistent assistance seemed to be enabling him to start choosing to think in a healthy way, rather than always taking the path of least resistance.

It wasn't _easy_, but he knew it was _better_.

Aziraphale stayed silent through it all, sitting by his side, at the ready in case he needed to react. He had maintained at least one contact point at all times, keeping Crowley grounded, which he was immensely grateful for. It had helped him keep his head.

The fact that he was surreptitiously sending that familiar, healing energy to Crowley through his fingertips helped, too.

He hadn't outwardly exploded in anger, like both of them had perhaps expected... he'd lost control of his eyes, and they'd gone full snake, but other than that, his rage had been quite a quiet one. 

He glanced over at Aziraphale, who then seemed torn between continuing to watch him closely and averting his gaze to the floor. It was clear to Crowley that he was torn up over his actions... and, well, that just wouldn't do. 

The sight of him like that made the rest of the tension flow out, dissipating into the air around them, and truly softened his heart once more. "Let's go in the office." He said, suddenly, making Aziraphale snap to full attention, met by irises that had shrunk back down to their human approximation. It had been the first time he'd spoken in hours.

"What for?"

"I think you _know_ what for."

If he hadn't, the subtleties in Crowley's voice would've given him a big clue. "You want to..."

"Yeah. Let's do it, Angel."

Aziraphale was briefly distracted by the fact that he was already back to 'Angel' again. It lifted his spirits slightly, despite everything.

But then he recovered from his distraction. "You mean _right now?" _

Crowley could tell by the way he said it that he was a bit incredulous... and also that at least part of him wasn't sure it was the best idea.

But he was determined. His heart was set on its mission. "Mm-hmm. Right now."

It was the most profound way he could currently think of to truly prove to Aziraphale that he had in no way broken his trust by keeping this information from him. There was no greater expression of that, in his eyes, than to put himself fully into Aziraphale's hands, right here, right now.

He _had_ broken his word, but throughout his life Crowley had learned to deal with very few things in absolutes. He wasn't going to vilify Aziraphale for doing what he thought was right to protect his mental state, especially not when he'd left so much of his treatment to the angel's discretion so far. 

Due to some of the steps involved in withholding the information, it might've _technically_ been wrong of him, but it was obvious he'd done it solely because he cared so much, and that part of it meant more to Crowley. He could see the points in his logic without even needing them explained. 

To him it was wrong in the same type of way _he'd_ been wrong when he went into the zoo without paying that first time, or any other similar deed he'd done.

It was a mere trifle in his eyes, in other words, and he wanted Aziraphale to understand that when he said so, he wasn't just placating him. The words he'd spoken so many times, 'I trust you', those weren't enough right now. He wanted and needed to show him.

But Aziraphale was hesitant to just accept it out of hand. "We can't just... have sex rather than talk about this, Crowley."

That earned him a pair of dark eyebrows flying toward the sky. "Mm? 'S _that_ what you think this is? A distraction?"

Aziraphale flinched at the directness. "I... don't know. Is it?"

Crowley shook his head. "No. 'S not an alternative to talking. Dunno how to put it." He paused, considering it a moment, knowing it was important that he got this explanation right. "S'like... an enhancement to the conversation, not avoiding one. It's me telling you what I can't with words and baring my heart to you. I need to show you how I feel, on a deeper level. I need to let you see it. I can't just say it to you... nothing I come up with will be as strong as I need it to be."

He reached down to Aziraphale's hand, still on his knee, and hooked his thumb into his. "Look. I know holding this back feels like a huge deal to you, 'n I'm not discounting how you feel about it, I promise I'm not. But... I've gotta let you know that to me it's really not. Yeah, we promised not to keep stuff from each other, 'n I'm not belittling that promise either, but... I think - whether you knew it or not - you were just waiting on the right time. I don't think you were really just not gonna tell me. Said it yourself, didn't you? You knew you needed to tell me. Took some time to get ready, 'cause you were scared of hurting me, but you did tell me."

Aziraphale sighed. What Crowley was saying made sense, but he didn't know if he could let himself off the hook so easily for breaking a promise, especially one that was that important.

"C'mon." Crowley beckoned, rising and making his way out of the room.

Aziraphale followed him into the office, unable to help worrying his hands on the way in. "You're _sure_ you want to do this _right now_."

Crowley stopped, turning to properly look at him when he answered. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life, Angel."

Crowley had used this line on him before, but it hit differently when he delivered it like this - solid and steady, looking him straight in the eye as he did so.

"If _you're_ not, I get it, and I'm not gonna push it. 'S not just my decision, after all. I don't want you doing anything you're not 100% comfortable with. So... if you'd really rather _just_ talk some more--"

Aziraphale cut him off, settling a hand on his wrist. "No, it's alright. I understand."

_"Do_ you?"

"I think I do, yes. I just-- I need to make sure we're not rushing into this. It's vitally important to me to do it right."

"You _are_ doing it right. You're always looking after me, even when you're not doing it directly. I know you've got thousands of different things running 'round in your head all the time, stuff that you're keeping track of. Don't wanna get in the way of any of that." He said, gently taking Aziraphale's hands in his once more and noting how that instantly stopped his unconscious fidgeting. "I just... I _want_ to open myself up to you. Even if you think it'd be better to wait, I need you to know that. You haven't done anything to make me change my mind. You haven't in any way changed how I feel." He squeezed Aziraphale's hands, concentrating hard so he could keep pulling out only the exact words that he wanted. "Don't you see it? You're _still_ only thinking about me, even right now... you're making sure I'm okay and I'm actually ready to take this step. There's nothing in that to make me think even for a _second_ that I can't totally depend on you, Angel."

That was the true lightbulb moment. He saw realization spread over Aziraphale's features, and before he knew it, he was being backed up against the wall and kissed. It wasn't a _desperate_ kiss, like such a move would've normally been accompanied by, but quite possibly the most tender one Aziraphale had ever bestowed upon him. If Crowley wasn't certain about his intent clicking when he saw it happen, that would've been what convinced him. He was putting an unimaginable amount of affection into it, to the point that it was almost overwhelming, but Crowley hung on. He took every ounce of it that he was offered and swallowed it down, moving his hands up to hold Aziraphale close to him by the lapels of his jacket.

Aziraphale urged him back after a moment, but only a little bit. "My idea will require a quick wardrobe change, dear." He told him, warm breath washing over Crowley's face from their close proximity.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think about taking another trip to 1793?"

The wave of arousal that hit Crowley when he considered the possibilities that came along with that idea left him in a state of awe. "I think you'd better pack our bags. Holy shit."

Aziraphale couldn't help but laugh a little at that, but he made no comment. With no further delay, he snapped, and the clothes they were currently wearing were changed to something more period appropriate. The scene around them also warped... the office was a dungeon, now, the desk and sofa replaced with a worn wooden table and a very uncomfortable looking cot. It was a bit ambiguous as to whether or not it was _the_ dungeon, but it was similar enough not to matter, anyway.

"Hey... one more thing."

Aziraphale leaned back from him at that, giving him a bit of space. "Did you need to discuss something with me first, love?"

"No. I just-- well, here. It's easier if I show you." He hummed, shedding the coat and vest that Aziraphale had put on him, reaching to the wrist of his shirt sleeve to pop the button, and then... he started to _roll up_ the sleeve.

It had an immediate effect, once Aziraphale cottoned on to what he was up to. He had damn near quaked on his feet. _"Oh_, you little minx."

A cheeky grin was Crowley's only response as he finished, leaving the sleeve tucked together at his elbow, and then proceeded to do the same thing with the other one. "Thought I'd make it a bit more fun for you."

"I assure you, my beloved, it's going to be plenty for me already... but this bonus is very nice. Oh, you're so good to me. Far more than I deserve." Aziraphale sighed, allowing himself a moment of distraction to run his hands reverently over the bared parts of Crowley's arms as he lightly pinned them to the wall. The hair stood on end, and it inspired him to take a firmer grip, pulling one of the arms down so he could kiss the inside of Crowley's wrist.

Crowley watched him tenderly, slipping his other arm free from Aziraphale's grip so he could bury his fingers in his soft curls. "You deserve this. We both do. I'm not gonna let you punish yourself like that, so don't even think about it. 'Sides, I'm not allowed to say stuff like that, in general, so you aren't either. I don't care what you think. Not allowed."

"I love you." Aziraphale said, and it came as easily and as naturally as breathing.

_"Definitely_ allowed to say that one. Prob'ly better say it again, actually." 

Aziraphale smiled to the point his eyes crinkled deeply at the corners. "I love you." He repeated.

Crowley returned the smile, pushing at the back of his head to get him to move over so he could peck his lips. "Love you too." He bumped his nose against Aziraphale's. "Now... stop beating yourself up over this. No more, yeah? 'M not upset with you, and nothing you say is gonna make me be." He told him, keeping his eyes trained and soft on the angel's blue ones. "I want you to do this. You want to do it too, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Alright then." The tone in which he said it indicated the finality of the situation. They both wanted it, and no further discussion was needed on that front.

The fact that a pair of chains came rattling out of the wall above his head didn't hurt the point, either.

Aziraphale reached up and tested the chains, and quickly made a log of three things: how far they would stretch when pulled taut, how heavy they were, and the size of the manacles at their ends. He knew any and all of this could be adjusted, but it was good to have a baseline.

Crowley watched him curiously, taking in his every move and wondering what exactly he had in mind for their first crack at all this. He wondered what kind of tone Aziraphale was going to take with him. He'd figured on Aziraphale softening the introduction with roleplay elements, at least, and now he knew at least vaguely what those would entail.

He'd already proven himself to naturally be fairly adept at knowing when, or perhaps how, to turn it back off, as evidenced by the way he'd immediately broken character to console Crowley, back then, and the tender sex they'd had after the fact. 

"Are you ready for me to put these on you?" Aziraphale asked, after a while, indicating the chains still draped over his hand.

"Yeah."

With that permission, he did. He carefully secured the shackle around Crowley's wrist, making sure he struck the balance properly. It wasn't loose enough for him to slip free, but also not tight enough to cut off his circulation.

The instant Aziraphale clicked that second shackle closed, Crowley closed his eyes. He felt calm and anxiety well up inside of him in equal measure. It was an odd sort of 'first time' performance anxiety vs. the soothing idea of Aziraphale looking after him.

They battled back and forth, but neither could or would overpower the other.

"Are you well, dear? Does it hurt? Is it too tight?"

He knew it _shouldn't_ be tight _or_ hurting him, but felt it necessary to ask anyway, just to be certain.

The demon shook his head and opened his eyes again, able to feel Aziraphale analyzing him even before he could see it for himself. "Mm-mm. Doesn't hurt. 'S fine."

"And how are you feeling... otherwise?"

"I... well..."

Aziraphale looked at him, expectantly. "Yes?" He prompted, and it wasn't surprising that he would be especially sensitive toward Crowley's reactions at the moment.

"I'm..." Crowley swallowed, and he felt his face heat. The two sides had warred out and had retreated now, and they'd left only one thing in their wake. "Excited." He didn't know why he was quite _this_ flustered over admitting it. 

It wasn't just a vague idea left in the realm of hypothetical conversation. He wanted this, he had explicitly asked for it, and they were now entering into the process of doing it. 

He had long since surrendered his heart to him... now he was surrendering everything else to Aziraphale, too.

Aziraphale drew in close, cupping Crowley's face in his hands like he was holding a piece of delicate china between his palms. "Many times, you've told me that you trust me. Is that still true?"

Instantly, Crowley thought of a pure white wing, extended out, sheltering him from the first rain.

He thought of being handed a tartan thermos in a darkened car, what that moment meant about the angel's own trust.

He thought of _everything_ they had been through; the good times, the fights... how Aziraphale was helping him, and how he loved him, and showed it every single day.

There was no way he could ever do anything else _but_ trust him ever again.

He knew he had made it quite clear already, or they wouldn't have even gotten this far, but he _also_ knew that his angel needed to hear it, out loud, from his own mouth. It was why he had asked.

So he gave that relief to him, effortlessly. "Yes. I _do_. I trust you. Implicitly, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled once more. Even if he had wanted to hear it in this moment, it wasn't as if he really needed convincing, not at this point. Crowley had shown him, time and again. The fact that they were here at this very moment had shown him, possibly more than any other time. 

"I can't say you did _nothing_ wrong, but y'didn't do anything to make me see you any differently. I understand _why_ you did what you did, 'm not bullshitting you when I say that. You weren't babying me by making this decision yourself. I'm actually kinda _glad_ you tried to protect me like that, even if you sort of went about it the wrong way." He said, wishing he could hold Aziraphale's face the same way his own was being held, with more care than should've been physically possible. "I forgive you, Aziraphale."

_I'll **always** forgive you_.

The echo of his emotional words from their session at the bandstand came back, right then, and it made Aziraphale's eyes brim with tears. "Thank you." He pressed his forehead against Crowley's. "I love you so, so much, and I will never stop. No matter what." 

"If I ever forgot everything else, I know I'd remember that." Crowley told him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "You don't need to worry anymore."

He'd said this to Aziraphale a few times, but it never ceased to be kind of funny to him to be giving advice that he had a hard time taking himself.

"Neither do you. You should already know, but I'm going to tell you anyway - you don't ever need to be embarrassed of what you want from me. I would do most anything for you." He told him, reaching around Crowley's waist to pull their bodies flush, just to be close to him.

The only things he _wouldn't_ do had been clearly outlined ahead of time.

Crowley smiled an ever fond smile at him, catching the lone drop that had actually escaped his eye with the pad of his thumb to wipe it away. It had taken quite a lot of effort to do so while chained - he could just barely reach, even with as close as Aziraphale was to him, but he'd _needed_ to. He felt like he couldn't go on without giving him that one little bit of comfort, even if it was all he could do in his current predicament. "I know."

Aziraphale felt his heart thumping in his chest. Six thousand years of devotion, that was what Crowley had given to him. At times, he hadn't noticed it. Most times, he _pretended_ not to notice it... but now, it was there, it was in his face, and he always had eyes right on it. He had accepted all of it into himself, and it stuck to his very bones, never to be separated from him again.

He still felt like he had quite some work to do in order to give Crowley a proper return on all that investment, especially in moments like this, when he knew he had done wrong to him.

But it was also in moments like this that he loved Crowley the hardest. He had only let him see the complete extent of it once, and for a fleeting time - he'd been worried (and rightfully so) of overwhelming him. Angels were beings of love, and though Crowley had once taken that form himself, it had been far too long for him to just unleash all of that all the time without putting a damper on it.

But he still _made sure_ Crowley knew. He always gave him as much as he could handle.

"If you want to stop doing this at any time, you only need to let me know, love. Just because we start something doesn't mean we have to finish the same way... or _at all_, if you're in any way not comfortable. Everything is in your hands, sweetheart. It's important that you remember that. Can you do that for me?"

"Mm-hmm. I will."

Aziraphale leaned in to him, placing a few gentle kisses to his chin and along his jaw. "There are many tools I have at my disposal with which to give you pleasure... but you decide if you like the ones I use and how I wield them. _You_ are in the ultimate control of how we proceed here. You're only letting me _borrow_ power from you, and it's yours to take back at any moment you choose."

"Right." Crowley said, feeling a pleasant, soft warmth bloom in his chest at the reassurances, even though he'd already known all of that. It would be very hard for him to not feel comforted by it.

"Well, then... shall I take my place so we can start this show, darling?"

"Yeah."

Aziraphale kissed him one more time, then pulled away, departing from the room and standing just outside, barely out of Crowley's view. He could see flickers of arms at the edge of the door frame as the angel straightened himself up at the last minute, and it almost made him laugh, but he reined himself in, having the foresight to hang his head to look at the floor as if he hadn't been expecting anyone.

"Well, well. Would you just look at what we have here."

He raised his head slowly, trying his best to look shocked. "...Aziraphale?"

Aziraphale moved in, leaning sideways onto the support column nearby to where Crowley was chained. Finally, Crowley got his first good look at his whole outfit, now that he was standing in front of him. He wasn't wearing the same clothes as the day he'd been in trouble; the white gold cufflinks bonding his sleeves were definitely too much, and he'd still refused to totally get rid of the frills, like the prissy bastard he was - especially back then - but it seemed that in this version of the narrative he had at least tried to learn from his mistake. The general presentation was at least _marginally_ better than the last time. "I must admit, this is a sight I never thought I'd see. A degenerate in chains? Truly a revolutionary concept. _Imagine_ my shock."

Crowley hadn't expected the thick sarcasm, or for Aziraphale to immediately throw himself all in, and it momentarily put him off his groove.

He swiftly recovered, though. _"Funny_. Now let me the fuck down."

"Mm. You know, actually, I don't think I will."

18th century Crowley was clearly exasperated by this. _"C'mon_, Angel."

"Oh, you sly thing. I may like it, but don't you even begin to think that calling me Angel will help you right now."

"Why not?"

The angel moved in just close enough to barely be able to reach Crowley, gently taking him by the chin, making him meet his eyes. "Because I think I enjoy the sight of you in chains more than that."

"Ngk."

Aziraphale smiled at him, mischief glinting in his eyes. "You did say... there's only one person you'd let shackle you."

Crowley wheezed, but said nothing.

"Oh, yes. I remember. I remember everything you've ever said to me, my dear boy."

"H-How d'you know I meant you?"

Aziraphale gave him a flat look. "Come now, Crowley."

"Can't. Not yet. Gonna have to do a little something for me first, Angel."

Aziraphale's face stayed neutral, but Crowley still heard that little snort that erupted from his nose. "We're getting to that. _Perhaps_. If you're good."

_"Shit_. Well... 's still true. I didn't _let_ them. They got me sleeping. Paranoid bastards snuck up on me."

"All they've done is saved me the trouble of finding you, I do say." Aziraphale laughed. "But, I thought you were... what was it you said? 'Too slick to get caught?'"

"Oh, fuck off."

Aziraphale seemed to consider it. "I really could, you know. I could leave here and pretend I never saw you."

Crowley squinted at him, calling his bluff. "You wouldn't."

"Perhaps I _wouldn't_, but I _could_. Do keep that in mind."

"What d'you want, then? You want a favor for letting me out? Need me to go do some miracles? Or, maybe..." His expression shifted into something sultry. "Want me to blow you again? You liked that last time."

"Certainly a tempting offer, but no. Not at present." Aziraphale moved in closer, not quite _stalking_ in his movement, but Crowley got the same feeling from it anyway - like he was a tasty meal Aziraphale couldn't wait to devour - and it made him shiver, though he tried to contain it. "No, I think I'd rather play with you."

Crowley gaped at him. "While I'm... tied up?"

Aziraphale nodded in response. "While you're tied up. I certainly don't mean to release you just yet." He drew a finger over the entire length of Crowley's jaw. "I'll toy with you _plenty_, but don't worry, my dear boy. I'll definitely get you off." 

He reached down to undo the cufflinks at his wrists, letting them fall to the floor near his feet.

The light sound of those tiny bits of metal clinking against the hard surface sharply drew Crowley's attention. He didn't know _what_ it was, couldn't even begin to claim knowing, but to him something in that action was _screaming_ authority, and it made him excited - the involuntary squirming it made him do had him sitting up and taking notice. Aziraphale then proceeded to peel his own sleeves back, rolling them carefully up to his elbows, driving that spike of arousal further down into Crowley's center.

Immediately, he understood why Aziraphale had a thing for this. Seemed like he did too, if the way his pulse rose with each inch of skin revealed was any indication at all. He was transfixed, watching as his angel's strong arms came into view, bit by bit.

And he definitely wasn't the only one who had noticed the reaction. Aziraphale couldn't even clearly see Crowley's eyes, but he could still tell, just based on what the rest of his face was doing. "Is _that_ what I look like, when I'm admiring you like this? Goodness. If that's the case, I can easily see why you like teasing me." He said, breaking character a moment to lean in and give Crowley a peck on the lips. "You're gorgeous, dear. Always... but _especially_ when you're wanting. I love what it does to you."

Crowley let out a long shuddering breath from between his parted lips, but otherwise didn't respond. His whole being felt like it was trembling with that want.

"Alright?"

"Mm-hmm. More than."

Aziraphale nodded, and that was that. He trusted Crowley to tell him if he _wasn't_. As he had said, if that weren't the case, Aziraphale wouldn't have even considered this business to begin with. "Can you perhaps tell me what it is that you're reacting to, specifically?"

"Um. Well, the... the way you dropped those on the floor..."

Aziraphale's eyebrow quirked up, and he looked to the discarded accessories, then back to Crowley. "Yes?"

Crowley's own gaze dropped to them, and the movement replayed in his head. "It, uh... it was _really_ fucking sexy." He admitted, pressing his back against the wall for a moment to take some of the strain off of his arms. "Gave me this feeling like you were saying 'I've got _plans_ for you'." Even saying it himself put a shiver into his spine.

"And you're excited to see what those plans are, what I'm going to do with you?"

Crowley sighed; a sound wrapped up in longing, affection, and pure want. "Yes."

"Good." Aziraphale smiled, giving him another one of those little kisses for good measure before he moved back again. "You'll be finding out in fairly short order, my dear... and you shall very thoroughly enjoy that process."

His fingers settled on the corner of Crowley's glasses as he slid back into character. "May I take these off?"

"You know you can."

Satisfied, Aziraphale did. He plucked the glasses from Crowley's face and set them onto that old worn table, then returned to him. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of looking into these eyes, you know. It's a pity you feel that you have to hide them."

"Ngk."

Aziraphale smiled at him, running his thumb over the tops of both of his demon's cheekbones in turn. "They're particularly nice to look at when you're a bit excited, like this. When your pupils are enlarged, you start to look rather endearing."

"'S that your way of calling me cute?"

"Possibly."

"Bit long winded, isn't it?"

"...possibly." The silence hung in the air between them a while. "Crowley?"

"Mn?"

"Why didn't you escape from here? We both know you could have, and I seem to recall no shortage of teasing from you when the roles were reversed."

Crowley averted his eyes. "Dunno."

Aziraphale narrowed his eyes at him. "Oh, I think you _do_, and I think you're going to tell me."

"Ngk." The flush he called to his face, on cue, was quite impressive. "I... wanted to see something."

"Go on."

Crowley hung his head. "I wanted... to see if you'd come for me. To see if you... cared enough to save me."

"...I think that perhaps I should apologize, in that case."

That was a curveball Crowley didn't expect. He chanced a look back up. "Why?"

"It seems I didn't make things clear enough, the last time."

"H-Huh?"

Aziraphale moved in close, pressing Crowley's body to the wall with his own, and kissed him. One of his hands slipped between Crowley's head and the stone, cushioning him against the hard surface.

The chains clinked as Crowley struggled in vain to press himself closer against Aziraphale.

Aziraphale smiled against his lips, unable to help it, but then promptly rolled back into character as he broke the kiss again and leaned back. "Does this answer your question, darling?"

"I--wha--I don't..."

Aziraphale clicked his tongue at him. "I care for you, you _impossible_ serpent. _Of course_ I wish no harm to befall you."

"Oh."

"That being said, these stolen moments are all we're afforded, I'm afraid. They're all we can dare to take. I wish that wasn't true, but... it is. We absolutely _cannot_ let them see us together, Heaven _or_ Hell. You _know_ that, don't you?" 

Crowley didn't respond to him verbally, but if he didn't know any better, he'd have said that sadness in his eyes was genuine.

"It's you I worry for the most, out of the two of us. I may Fall, at worst, but Hell would _destroy_ you, if they knew. I'd become a demon, but they would _kill_ you, Crowley. This affection I have is dangerous for you. This is why I didn't go into it explicitly, before."

Crowley's fingers twitched a little, when Aziraphale alluded to his own Fall, but amazingly, it didn't break his stride. He had been able to separate fact from fiction, there. "Angel--"

Aziraphale continued to talk, not allowing Crowley of the past to interrupt his thought with any of his own period typical negativity. "Nevertheless, it _is_ there. I won't have you thinking otherwise, and that's why I'm telling you now. I didn't accept your request last time just because of what you did for me. I didn't lie down with you while feeling any kind of reluctance. I wasn't just going along with it because I owed you, I _wanted_ to do it. I told you I wanted you, too. That wasn't a lie."

Deft fingers popped the button on Crowley's trousers and tugged the zip down.

Crowley instinctively reached for him again, in earnest this time, only for his movement to be sharply aborted, and much sooner than he'd expected.

Aziraphale watched him with thinly veiled amusement. He had shortened the chains, after realizing that Crowley could still reach him the way they were, even if barely. That wouldn't do, considering that the ache to touch him, the inability to do so, and the subsequent buildup of that frustration was an important piece of what he was aiming to make Crowley feel. 

That was part of why he wanted his arms tied down, after all. Not only did the idea just appeal to him, in simple terms, but he _wanted_ to be left helpless, to force himself not to do anything and just lay back to let Aziraphale take care of him. He'd had issues with doing so, thus far, and while he was getting better with it, he still wasn't where he wanted to be.

Aziraphale shoved his hand into Crowley's open trousers, catching him off guard with the sudden rub of his fingers against him, touching him skin on skin. 

"Fucking bastard." Crowley said, in a tone that was probably meant to have a lot more hiss to it than it actually ended up doing.

"Oh, but you _like_ a bit of my bastardry." He leaned in, nibbling at the edge of Crowley's ear and admiring the way his skin bloomed pink from that close up. "It's alright to admit it, dear. I won't tell anyone. It'll be our secret." He grinned up at Crowley, emphasizing every other word with a squeeze of his hand.

"Holy shit. You're gonna make me discorporate."

"Oh, darling. I haven't even _begun_. Don't be so dramatic, it doesn't suit you." Aziraphale purred, running his hand over Crowley's flank, through the shirt. He could feel his demon's flushed skin through the fabric, and it only made him feel hungrier and more focused on drawing out his pleasure. "Now, I _am_ going to take you apart... but it will be in a thoroughly pleasant manner, I assure you. You'll forget your every complaint, once I get started in earnest."

He withdrew his hand from Crowley's trousers in order to use it to tip his head down by his chin to make him look at him again. "You've _got_ to be good for me. You can do that, can't you, dear?"

"Mm-hmm... I can. Still want to." He murmured, angling his head down more to kiss Aziraphale's knuckle.

In return for it, the angel gave him a fond stroke over his chin. "Last time, you said... you wanted to make it last. Does that remain true, now?"

Crowley's tongue almost tripped over itself in his haste to answer. "Yeah... yes, Angel. It does."

"Then... will you leave it to me to decide when you've earned your ending?"

Crowley let out a low, sharp breath, like he'd been punched. _"Yes_."

_"Oh_, my gorgeous boy. You're so _wicked_." The perfectly emphasized word crawled down his spine and spread a warm feeling out between his legs, and Aziraphale's hand followed its trail back down to peel the fabric away, shoving it down to his knees to release him, and then take hold of him again. "I do love that about you." He said, slowly dragging his thumb over the entire length of Crowley's shaft.

He was sweating a lot already, mostly from the anticipation alone, and Aziraphale's exciting manner of speaking did him no favors on that end... the pieces of clothing he still wore felt heavy, and they stuck to him. 

But he opened his legs wider, as much as he could within the confines of the bottoms bunched at his knees, and suddenly he forgot all about that. The shift in weight had put a smidge of extra strain onto his wrists, but it was well worth it when Aziraphale eagerly took advantage of the expanded amount of room he was offered, pushing his hand further in between Crowley's legs to fondle his bollocks a while, letting his cock rest heavy on his arm while he did. He paid no mind to the slick spot it was making on his skin.

"You really are an unparalleled study in contrast, dearest. So wicked, and yet still so well behaved at the same time." He whispered, moving in close to nose at Crowley's throat, being attentive to him from that spot for a while. He left a haphazard pattern of marks over the demon's skin, giving them each a fond kiss when they started to bloom red.

And, of course, he continued to readily give Crowley's cock the attention it craved, too.

Each change in speed or pressure tested his resolve, made him want to press his hips toward Aziraphale's hand even though he knew he shouldn't - it was a true battle, but Crowley didn't move. 

Well, he stayed still as much as he could, that is. His cock bobbed and twitched with the movements of Aziraphale's hand, and his legs lightly trembled from the effort.

He genuinely thought he had it together... but then, Aziraphale _growled_ in his ear, low and territorial - not _at all_ an angelic sound.

All at once, he felt it. A slap of pleasure hit him that was so strong it probably could've knocked him off his feet if that was physically possible at the moment. 

It was like he had cracked and was crumbling rapidly... but Aziraphale just continued to move his hand on him like nothing was amiss. It made him wonder if he was still supposed to say something, to warn him.

He was already _there_, he could tell he was, and Aziraphale was just... letting him come?

But no, he quickly realized, that wasn't the case. It had all been very precisely calculated by the angel.

It was deliberate, and he came to that conclusion the instant his eyes met Aziraphale's. They were sharp on him and hungry as he sprung into action. 

It was crystal clear - he had no intention _whatsoever_ of letting Crowley go from point A to point B so easily. His hand bore down, squeezing firmly enough to stop it from actually happening, snatching Crowley back from the drop off point.

He'd let him get all the way there - he'd _put_ him there like that just so he _could_ pull him back. "Ah-ah. _Easy_, now. I didn't say you could finish, did I?"

His mild scolding lit Crowley up, and he felt the heat in his belly intensify even while he was being forcibly held back. "N-No..."

"That's because you haven't had enough. Not _just_ yet. You'll wait until I decide it's time, am I correct? Isn't that what you said, my dear boy? You can be good and stick to your word, I know you can."

Crowley bit the inside of his cheek, hard. _"Fuck_..."

Aziraphale looked him over, wondering if he'd changed his mind, and pulled back a bit toward the realm of reality. "Your color, dear."

But there was absolutely zero hesitation before Crowley gave his answer. "Green." It was definitely uncomfortable to be held back, he would admit, but... at the same time, it was a _good_ kind of discomfort, especially when paired with Aziraphale's precisely delivered admonishments. He could only _imagine_ what it was going to feel like when he actually did come.

"Alright." Aziraphale said, pressing a feather light kiss to the underside of Crowley's jaw. "Remember... you don't have to wait for me to ask to tell me what it is, or to tell me if it changes. I _definitely_ want you to tell me if it changes, _when_ it changes."

Crowley nodded. "Yeah. 'S the whole point of the thing."

"Right."

They'd come to this agreement, shortly after the initial discussion. During that follow up, Crowley had chosen and communicated his word, but he worked out terms with Aziraphale that he would only use it in the case of something truly catastrophic. Otherwise, he wanted to use the colors instead. He felt more comfortable that way.

Aziraphale took his hand off entirely - once the danger had passed for the time being - and moved in close to wrap an arm around Crowley and press their bodies flush, slowly rubbing his clothed front against Crowley's bare, straining cock and terrorizing him with a little smirk when it made him whimper.

"Sensitive, are we? Poor dear." He cooed, raising his free hand and running his fingers through Crowley's hair while he pushed his other hand down between them, his thumb returning to smear dewy beads of precome over the head. "Oh, Crowley. If you could only see yourself." He murmured, pressing kisses against the demon's exposed throat. "Stunning. Gorgeous. Beyond compare... and all _mine_. Isn't that right?"

The last bit was accompanied by a slight increase in pressure as his thumb pressed down, just the way Crowley liked it, and it - along with the full return of that played up possessiveness he had melted over the last time - made him see white.

Aziraphale let off slightly, then pressed down again, rubbing against the slit, like he'd watched Crowley do to himself before. "Darling, I'd like for you to answer me."

"Agh... i-it's right! Christ, it's right!" He gasped, pushing back against the wall, his arms flexing against the grip of the chains as he moved. 

"There you go... that wasn't so hard, was it?" Aziraphale hummed, giving Crowley a few solid strokes for his trouble before returning to his lighter touches over the tip. "Does this feel good, sweetheart?"

"Yes..." Crowley told him, letting that feeling cover him until he was writhing in place with it, his voice sounding like he might burst into tears for a moment. "Angel... Angel, _fuck me_."

Their eyes locked, and through that glance, there was an understanding silently communicated that he didn't _actually_ mean this. He didn't want to disengage... if he wanted to do that, he would use one of his words. It wasn't him calling everything off in favor of a good shag.

He didn't want to stop, this was just flavor.

It occurred to him that his added flavor was what got them to this point to begin with, so he didn't think he would stop using it any time soon.

Aziraphale transitioned back in with a thoughtful hum. "Mm... again, as tempting as that is, I'm afraid I'm going to have to decline, in this instance." He kissed Crowley briefly, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth just to feel it drag free when he moved away again.

"What's the fucking _problem?_ Just get my trousers off, and--"

_"No_, Crowley." Aziraphale pushed just a touch of sternness into his voice. He used _that_ tone. As ever, it reminded Crowley of when he'd chastise him for apologizing too much, and produced a similar reaction in him, making him melt inside, and outwardly arch and squirm against that firm hand that had settled on his chest. 

Aziraphale left him in his excitement for a moment, even let him get lost in it, to see how far he'd be able to go on just that. The result of that was Crowley working himself up almost to the point of no return, and then, at the same point of it as before, he squeezed tight and edged him a second time, drinking in that low hiss he was given in response as he continued speaking. "This time, it's all about _you_, my darling. You needn't worry about _me,_ now." He sighed pleasantly, watching large beads of sweat streak down the long column of Crowley's neck while he gave him slow, steady, carefully measured strokes with just his fingertips.

The precise control he held over his motions meant Crowley wouldn't come one single _second_ before he decided he wanted him to.

And _both_ of them quite thoroughly enjoyed him having that power, it seemed.

Crowley swallowed, and his gaze dropped to the floor between them, watching the sedate movement of Aziraphale's hand in his periphery. It was a wonder he could still concentrate at all, in between all of that, but _somehow_ he could. "But..."

Suddenly, there it was again, his acting prowess, on full display. The old flip-flopping doubt over whether or not he was allowed to want Aziraphale flit over the surface of his eyes.

"It's alright." When Crowley opened his mouth to argue, Aziraphale shut him down. "It _is_. You can have this, Crowley. It's not selfish of you to take your pleasure from me like this. I'm giving it to you because I want to, and I don't need anything back from you." When he said that part, it almost felt like he could be talking to both versions of Crowley - the one with him in that dungeon in Paris, and the real one, underneath. "I just want to show you how much I care about you. You need to know. Clearly, I haven't properly communicated it." 

Crowley was so sensitive at the moment that the light brush of Aziraphale's thumb over his cheek felt about ten times more affectionate than it normally did, and that was saying something, since touching Crowley's face was a well broken in habit of his at this stage. It sent a pulse out from the contact point and straight down between his legs. "We can't be together by daylight... we can't be seen. Perhaps, someday, we won't have to hide anymore. I can only hope that will be possible, that I can one day walk in the sun with you whenever and wherever I'd like, without fear. But, right here, right now, under this cover of darkness, hidden away together... this is the only sort of place that I _can_ show it to you, and I will, right now. I want you to know how deep it goes. I want you to see it, and I want you to remember it."

Crowley bit his lip, daring to look Aziraphale in the eyes again. That little leveling of his gaze and the way his eyes shimmered in the low light just about gutted the blonde. "Angel, I _love_ you."

Aziraphale gave his hair a fond stroke. "I know you do, my beautiful boy. You've suffered in silence with your feelings for a long time now, haven' t you? You deserve this, and so much more." In lieu of kissing him on the mouth while he was worrying his lip, he wiped away the sweat with a handkerchief he produced from his pocket and planted one on the demon's forehead, in that extra sensitive spot between his eyes. "You _must_ know by now that I feel the same way. Don't you?"

More of Crowley's lip disappeared between his teeth, and he nodded quietly.

"Good. Now... here is what's going to happen. This hand of mine, this hand, right here?" He gave a long, languid stroke from Crowley's base all the way up to his tip, where he pressed in with the pad of his thumb again, making him shudder. "It's going to bring you to your climax. You're going to come _just like this_, this time. And do you know _why_ you're going to do that, my dear?"

Crowley swallowed. "Why?" He asked, controlling his breaths so he could hear the answer.

"Because I _want_ you to."

Crowley jolted, set to tingling by that response, and the _power_ that it wielded, even if they were both currently playing their roles. Immediately he knew it was true outside of that context as well. Aziraphale was taking this seriously, doing his best to hit all the right notes and make this introductory run through the best he possibly could for Crowley.

Aziraphale would make him shatter apart. That, in itself, was fairly normal. The difference was... this time he could only observe as his angel guided him toward the edge. He'd been asked for his input at some stages, when it was needed, but ultimately he'd come _when_ Aziraphale wanted, and _how_ he wanted.

He was basically helpless, and he was honestly _loving_ that. The path was Aziraphale's to determine - Crowley had chosen to let him conduct this symphony all by himself, and he was just along for the ride.

Of course, he knew that at the core of it _he_ was the one that was actually in control... he was the one behind the curtain. All he had to do was say one word, and Aziraphale would relinquish the power he'd borrowed. He had kept that fact accessible, like he'd promised Aziraphale. 

Knowing that only made it easier for him to let this happen, though. The sense of security he felt from both sides of it was amazing.

Aziraphale was looking after him... he had to do _everything_ for him. Crowley was relying entirely upon his mercy, falling into him and trusting him to do what needed to be done - that was the point of all of this. 

Aziraphale was gladly stepping to the plate, too. If indication could be believed, this was going to become one of his Principality's many ways of bestowing love on him.

The thought of that, of the two of them continuing to explore this... it had his entire body buzzing with excitement, suddenly.

Aziraphale stilled, and it became clear to Crowley that the angel could sense _something_ from him, but it was just as clear that he couldn't quite tell what it was. "A color, if you please, my love."

Crowley huffed out a laugh, arching his chest up toward Aziraphale in an attempt to get contact during this brief respite. _"Green_. Holy fuck, it couldn't be _any more_ goddamn green."

Aziraphale smiled at him, giving a brief stroke down his front for his trouble. "Noted."

And then he seized hold of him again, unexpectedly assaulting his senses with the quick, tight strokes of a hand that he had quite suddenly cheated into a state of slickness. "Now... be a good boy for me, and _come_."

Those were the magic words. There was a loud and sharp pair of jingling sounds as Crowley pulled at the chains, stretching them to their very limit and straining against them as he did just that, the timing making it seem as if it genuinely _had_ happened on command alone. He abandoned the pretense and braced one of his legs on the wall to fuck Aziraphale's waiting hand as best he could manage as the waves took him, giving a cluster of little 'ah' sounds and making a mess of his lover's palm and his fingers, as well as a bit on his exposed arm.

Momentarily, he lost track of the boundaries of his body. His edges were out there _somewhere_, but normal awareness wasn't something in his tool set at the moment. He felt like he'd _actually_ dissolved into goo, it was that good.

Aziraphale sighed pleasantly, watching the display with delight. _"That's it_, my dear. Just look how _lovely_ you are." He cooed, sweetly, pressing back in close so he could speak directly to Crowley's ear, still leaving enough of a gap between them to keep stroking him, milking his orgasm. His clean hand smoothed tenderly over one of Crowley's exposed, straining arms. "You've done just as I've asked of you... but then, _of course_ you have. I didn't think even for a moment that you wouldn't. You're such a_ good boy_. Oh, I'm so pleased with you, Crowley." 

And he was, genuinely.

Sensitive as he already was, hearing all of that only worked to draw out Crowley's orgasm even more. It had him openly gasping, and his eyes spilled over with tears that he didn't so much as attempt to hide. The chains were rattling while he pulled on them and shook against them, and his fingers clenched hard in their desire to grip onto Aziraphale, to touch his shoulder, _something_... but all he could do in this situation was keep rutting into that hand, pulled tight around him. He went until he was finally quite wrung out, and then he went slack, still panting as he fell into the hold of the chains.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will pick up directly from this point!
> 
> If you thought I chucked the chapter where they negotiated things and ran away then you haven't seen anything yet lmfao  
It is now time for me to hide and wait for feedback!
> 
> [Although I SWEAR I will get to those piled up comments very soon!!! Thanks for your patience while I've been a delinquent y'all]
> 
> (Also here's a random fact: I have been reliably informed that this blessed fic is now longer than Moby Dick which I find to be _hilarious_)
> 
> As always you can come chat with me on tumblr [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com)!


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A moment later, Crowley felt a rush of warm energy between his legs, cleaning his mess away, and then it slid its way up his body and across his arms - the pressure on his wrists released, the chains clattered back against the wall, and he pitched forward, with nothing keeping him up anymore. 
> 
> But Aziraphale was right there, catching him easily and gathering him up into his arms, cradling him against his body. "There, now. I've got you, sweetheart." He said, bringing a cool cloth up to Crowley's neck and face to gently wipe away his sweat. He easily could've just banished _it_ as well, but... it felt like something he should do the long way this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi  
We are visiting aftercare island today :)
> 
> (Quick note in case this might be a sensitivity for people... Crowley has a drop toward the middle of the chapter, kinda? The necessary steps are taken to fix it [of course] but I thought it might be important to mention it's there)
> 
> There is more sex and there is sweetness and that's what I'm good at so that's all I've got for ya

A moment later, Crowley felt a rush of warm energy between his legs, cleaning his mess away, and then it slid its way up his body and across his arms - the pressure on his wrists released, the chains clattered back against the wall, and he pitched forward, with nothing keeping him up anymore. 

But Aziraphale was right there, catching him easily and gathering him up into his arms, cradling him against his body. "There, now. I've got you, sweetheart." He said, bringing a cool cloth up to Crowley's neck and face to gently wipe away his sweat. He easily could've just banished _it_ as well, but... it felt like something he should do the long way this time.

When Crowley actually realized he was finally able to touch him again, his fingers scrambled to bury tightly into Aziraphale's front. "Angel..." He whispered, a bit disoriented. 

Aziraphale had never heard him _this_ breathless, felt him quite so desperate, or so clingy. Not even on that first night, after his initial panic attack, when he'd needed closeness and comfort more than he ever had before. Not even when he'd returned from Leeds, when they'd gone round after round til morning broke.

Somewhere deep down inside, it sort of felt like it stirred something in him.

But, putting that aside, Aziraphale shifted and pulled Crowley up slightly, holding his head up straight. "Shh. Here, drink this." He said, gently, holding a glass of water to Crowley's lips with the other hand.

But he turned his face away from it, his nose wrinkling in confusion. "You--I... I want..."

He knew _exactly_ what he wanted, but he was having quite some difficulty with getting his brain and mouth to coordinate at the moment.

Aziraphale relented, moving the glass a couple of inches away from him, then nuzzled into the top of his head, letting his fingertips slide into the short hairs at the base of Crowley's skull, rubbing little circles there to help soothe and ground him. "Shh. Don't worry about _me_ right now, dear. I'm alright. I'd just like to make sure you're not dehydrated before I take you to bed. _That's_ what you want, is it not? That's what you mean to ask me for?"

As ever, Aziraphale understood him - and what he needed - without real explanation. Crowley nodded and gave a little whimper, then moved to indicate that he wanted the water, allowing Aziraphale to pour it into his mouth. After the first splash hit the back of his throat, he was eager to drink it down. He hadn't even remotely realized how thirsty he'd become. In fact, he could've almost sworn that glass had miraculously refilled itself a time or two as he was drinking.

When he'd finished and finally seemed sated, Aziraphale drew him up more, slinging Crowley's legs over his other arm and picking him up easily to carry him off to the bedroom, letting Crowley's shoes drop off along the way. He moved over to the bed without delay, depositing Crowley onto it, maneuvering the blanket over him to keep his body temperature steady. He kicked his own shoes off and then sat next to him at chest level, at the edge of the mattress. 

"Are you in any pain, love?"

The question confused Crowley's fuzzy mind and he couldn't immediately understand the connotation. "Hn?"

"Your wrists. They're irritated from where you were pulling on the chains. Are they hurting you?"

"Oh." Crowley had enough control of his faculties to shake his head. "Mm-mm."

"Well, if they're not hurting you, I'll leave it up to you: Would you like me to heal them? Or did you want to hold onto the marks a while?"

"I'll keep 'em."

"Of course. They're yours to have for as long as you see fit, darling. But, if you'd like me to take care of them later, the offer is open." Aziraphale whispered, shifting slightly in his spot, resting his weight on his arm as he turned toward Crowley. "Now... I'm going to give you some attention. That's alright, isn't it?" He asked, laying it out bluntly while he leaned over Crowley to stroke his hair.

That brought some measure of clarity back to Crowley. "Oh, God. _Please."_ He nodded furiously and pulled one of his arms from under the blanket, and his spindly fingers curled around Aziraphale's wrist. Not to stop him, but to establish another point of contact. An all consuming urge to be close to Aziraphale had been gradually sinking down, and he was finally bearing the full brunt of it. "Need you."

"And you have me, my love." He understood immediately. He'd known well, the fact that he'd need to do something for Crowley, afterwards, but they hadn't figured out _precisely_ what that should entail. Crowley had raised sex as one idea, but left it up to Aziraphale's discretion, since he'd previously seemed to have an instinct about this sort of thing. 

As he had evaluated the options, he quickly found out that there _was_ no standard, when it came to _any_ of this. But, fortunately, it felt sort of like he'd unintentionally practiced for this, in those times when he'd nurture Crowley after putting him through exposure therapy.

Information as it related to this particular context of giving care was readily available, as well. He'd read lists upon lists of suggestions, again giving his best attempt at being proactive. While there _were_ some common threads to be found, there was always this caveat attached to them, noting that the care method that got the best response was different for everyone. It was down to the individual.

Apparently, for Crowley, his key was a further physical connection, or at least that was going to be a large part of it. He'd initially thought he'd have to throw ideas until one stuck, but the demon had just handed him his answer on a silver platter, like he had a habit of doing. "Would you like to undress me, perhaps? The long way?" He offered, moving his hand down to cup Crowley's cheek instead, gently stroking over the bone with his thumb.

Crowley shivered, both at the touch and the suggestion the words had carried to him. _"Fuck."_ He hadn't realized that had been on the menu. Despite how it might've seemed to someone else at face value, it was obvious to _him_ that it was an offer made for _his_ benefit. Aziraphale would sooner snap his fingers and be done with it, but Crowley had really liked stripping him down the last time, and if he could do it again, he could actually enjoy it properly, since he didn't have to act annoyed. The fact that Aziraphale had asked at all meant that he'd noticed. "Uh-huh."

And so began a fairly long process, in which Crowley slowly peeled off every item of clothing Aziraphale wore, in its turn, savoring the way he felt over seeing him revealed, bit by bit. The angel let him do it all... and in fact the only movement he made was to lift his hips for Crowley so he could get his bottoms off more easily. Otherwise he'd remained totally still.

Crowley let out a heavy breath, when he finally finished divesting Aziraphale from his clothes and saw the state of him.

He was rock hard, and a bit wet, around the tip. The whole of him was flushed a very angry red. It looked unimaginably painful.

_Don't worry about me right now, dear. I'm alright. _

Crowley heard those words echoing back through, and it worked to bring home to him just how impressive Aziraphale's self control really was. He'd intentionally riled him, all the way back before they'd even dipped their toes into the scene. He'd knocked right at the door of what he currently knew as Aziraphale's biggest turn on, and yet... the angel had little thought for himself. He had _only_ been focused on Crowley. He hadn't let on in the slightest that he was in this state. He hadn't and still didn't appear to be at all bothered by his condition.

His love and sense of duty would _always_ override his hedonism, it seemed.

"Y'don't want me to just... suck you off?" Crowley asked, feeling a wave of sympathy. He had a compulsion to reach out and touch, but he ultimately resisted it due to how sensitive it looked.

"Sweetest, I don't _want_ you to do anything. This isn't for me to have any expectations of you, or for you to feel beholden to me in any way. I'm here for _you,_ to keep giving you what you need. It isn't my place to make the decision on what that means." He shrugged broadly, before returning to watching Crowley watch him. 

"Mmf." Said Crowley, unhelpfully.

Seeing the need for a bit of prompting, Aziraphale continued. "That being said, I _was_ getting the idea that you wanted to be penetrated. Did I have that right? _Is_ that what you'd like?" He asked, hoping that he'd either gotten it or his question would be the lead in he needed to get Crowley to tell him what he actually wanted.

Crowley visibly shuddered at that, and it gave his brain a jumpstart. He was too distracted by _how much_ he wanted it to tell Aziraphale off for being so damned _proper_ with his word choice. _"Oh_... yeah... that, please."

Only a brief lowering of his body temperature made Crowley notice that the rest of his own clothes were gone. He didn't know if he'd done that himself, unconsciously, in his excitement, or if Aziraphale had done it... but he _did_ know the angel was to blame for adjusting the temperature in the room to suit him once he was naked, at least. It was one of his usual tricks.

Aziraphale then quietly sat up, taking hold of him, and switched their positions.

He gently laid Crowley out on his back, settling one hand on his waist, and the other he let slip into one of Crowley's, near his head. Crowley prepared himself, on the inside as well as out, settling down deeper into the mattress and spreading his legs wide to accommodate him.

When Aziraphale actually pushed into him, he thought he could cry from how it felt. His sensitivity was still off the charts, apparently, and just that simple step had his back arching. Normally it felt _good_ to take him, but not like _this._ He was electrified. It hit him much like it had the first time they'd ever had sex - that same thought of being able to come just from that if he put his mind to it floated up to the top, but he threw it away the same way he had the first time.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Uh-huh... mm, _fuck._" He groaned, low and deep, letting go of Aziraphale's hand in favor of bracing himself on the bed, wriggling downwards and trying in vain to take more of him only to discover there was no more to take because he'd already bottomed out. "Y'feel so good..."

"Oh, Crowley. You're positively _radiant._" Aziraphale sighed, reaching in to brush the demon's fallen fringe back. "Are you even remotely aware of what a treasure you are? I got so lucky with you. I adore you so."

Crowley gave another one of his little 'mmf' sounds in response. His arm hairs were standing on end, and he was tingling like mad. Not quite as much as before, but close. 

Aside from the fact that he simply enjoyed it on its own merit, there was another big reason he'd never get tired of that torrent of praise that always came from Aziraphale; he meant _every single word_ of it. He didn't say any of it _just_ because Crowley liked it. That just happened to be a fortunate side effect that he exploited, time and again. 

"Angel, 'm _not_ gonna last." He warned, able to tell immediately. He felt that boil deep down inside of him coming back already, just from having Aziraphale inside him.

"That's alright, beloved. You don't have to anymore. You can let go whenever you feel like you need to." Aziraphale assured him, pressing a kiss to his exposed forehead before ruffling his hair once more and then letting it fall back into place there. "I imagine that I'll be on the same course, in any case."

He nuzzled against Crowley's throat as he pulled back to start moving, slow and gentle. His lips repeatedly pressed up against that bump, proudly jutting out from the center of his demon's neck, in between the thrusts of his hips.

At first, he hung back slightly, versus what he'd normally do. He'd tried to leave a bit of a gap between their bodies, not wanting to smother Crowley or overwhelm him when he was sure he was extra sensitive. After a relatively short time though, Crowley's fingertips were digging into his back, pressing down, entreating him to come closer... so he did, carefully. 

He moved up, bracketing Crowley's head with his forearms, hovering over him and staring deeply into his eyes, but silently. He couldn't think of anything to say that would properly compliment the moment... it seemed to him that it didn't _need_ anything else.

Soon enough he couldn't keep his hands completely off of Crowley, though, and his tactile nature broke through. His arms stayed in the same spot, but turned to the side, allowing his hands freedom to move to hold Crowley's head, palms lightly cupping his ears and fingers scratching through his hair.

The gentleness and the love Aziraphale was blanketing him with had Crowley reeling even sooner than he'd figured on. It was borderline embarrassing, actually, but he felt so _good..._ and Aziraphale had already told him it was alright.

"Oh, fuck... _fuck..._ Angel, I _need_\--" One of Crowley's hands found the edge of the pillow under his head, and the other one buried its way into Aziraphale's hair as the angel leaned down to pepper kisses all over his face.

"Shh. It's alright, you don't have to tell me this time - I _know_ what you need, my love. I would never even _dream_ of not giving it to you. Just... hold on a bit longer for me, and I will. I will, Crowley. I _promise_ I'll give it to you."

It was always true of him, but now more than ever he was determined to see this promise through.

The time in between Crowley's pants of breath got shorter and shorter as he listened to those heavy slaps of Aziraphale's skin against his, and eventually the anticipation got to be so much it made his eyes flutter closed.

_"Oh,_ darling... you undo me." He heard Aziraphale say, after a few more of those slow, deep thrusts, and he could just about feel the path of his eyes roaming over him. "Are you close, love? Can you come again? I want to make you feel good."

'Close' didn't even begin to describe it. His bollocks were so achy with that pre-release tightness just listening to Aziraphale that he knew he wouldn't be able to see straight if his eyes were open. He could feel his cock weeping against his stomach, too. But, instead of that, he fixated on the second part of what Aziraphale had asked him. "Y-Yeah, I can... I want to. Just-- please, Angel. _Please, please, please..."_ He begged, he _pleaded._ It felt like he had never needed _anything_ more than this.

Aziraphale kissed him and slipped an arm underneath him to pull Crowley tight to his body, holding him still. "Take all of me, my love. It's yours. _I'm_ yours." He said, against Crowley's lips, and then he claimed them again while he actually gave it to him.

Somewhere between Aziraphale's moans in his mouth - sounds that vaguely curled up into the shape of his name - and the first few pulses of that slick heat filling him, the dam inside Crowley burst too, and he came hard between them with a ragged cry, muffled by the angel's mouth still working against his own. Aziraphale kept moving on top of him for a moment, pumping his spend deep inside Crowley with slow, purposeful thrusts, though he stopped much sooner than he normally would now, since Crowley had already gone over the edge as well.

That floaty, fuzzy feeling from before came back to Crowley, as they broke apart and shared gasps of air, trying to find their breath again, fading back in as if it had actually been there the whole time but flying under the radar. 

Maybe it _had_ been. He didn't know how that worked.

He didn't know much of _anything_ right now, really - including where exactly his body had gone. He'd lost track of his edges again.

It felt like he was laying on top of a cumulus cloud, drifting aimlessly through the sky. Nothing could hurt him up there. He felt invincible. 

He also felt like he wanted to keep doing this with Aziraphale until the end of time.

He couldn't stay that high forever, though. At some point he had to fall.

As the rush of his second orgasm subsided, taking the pleasant fuzziness out of him along with its ebb, a vague unease settled down on Crowley and his eyes turned sort of glassy, leaving him staring up at the ceiling as Aziraphale recovered and then cleaned him off.

It was a few minutes, tops, but the moment seemed to stretch on for a century, at least.

"Crowley?" Aziraphale's voice pulled his attention back.

"...yeah?"

His eyes focused, and he turned his head to find Aziraphale looking at him with no small measure of concern. It sort of made him wonder how many times the angel had called for him before he'd responded. "Are you alright?"

The question gave him pause, which he hadn't been expecting. _Was_ he alright?

Ultimately, Crowley couldn't say yes _or_ no, as neither answer felt like it was completely true, so he settled for shrugging. "I dunno, I just--I feel kinda off, I guess?" He said, unhelpfully, raising a hand to rub his eyes.

It appeared that when he fell out of the atmosphere, he'd fallen pretty hard. It felt like he'd landed on his face, rather than on his feet. He lost his support, as if that cloud under him had been popped like a balloon.

Aziraphale's hand found his arm. "What do you feel? Can you tell me?"

Crowley opened his mouth, then closed it again. He wasn't sure if he even knew any words that could adequately describe this feeling. It wasn't really something he'd felt before. "'M not... freaking out, or something." He said, both to assuage Aziraphale's concerns, if he was worried about that, and to confirm it out loud for himself. By now he was very familiar with what that felt like, in his case. It definitely wasn't _that._ "I just... _somehow_ I don't feel quite right."

A gentle squeeze answered him. "Talk to me, dear. You don't _have to,_ if it's too difficult at the moment... but it would be good to try."

"Well, that..." Crowley took a long pause, trying to will the proper words to come to him. "This-- it hasn't been _weird,_ or anything, has it? I mean-- it _wasn't,_ right?" He rambled, voice slightly ragged, and his cheeks turned pink. 

He didn't know why he had chosen now to get a little strange about it, this far removed from the situation. Perhaps because this was the first time his mind had been left idle, since they'd finished. Shortly after he'd been unchained, the few conscious thoughts he'd had transitioned over to getting Aziraphale in bed. He felt like he'd _needed_ him, on a level that was almost peerless.

It had been fine enough to talk about the kinky stuff beforehand, as an abstract concept, but now that they had actually _done it,_ it seemed to be on a different level. One of those _many_ stupid parts of him was afraid this whole thing would make Aziraphale see him differently, and not in a good way. Addled as he was, he wasn't quite able to combat that feeling as easily as he might've normally been able to.

That part of him was muffled considerably when he was given "No, it most certainly was _not."_ as Aziraphale's extremely firm reply, the close timing of which indicating he might've expected that question somehow. Crowley looked up curiously at hearing him shut down the notion so handily, and the glass from before moved to his hand, once again filled with water. "Drink this for me, will you?"

"Oh... sure." This time he took the fluid under his own power, but his hands clutched just as tightly to the glass as they had to Aziraphale while he was helping with it, last time. 

A task that should've been relatively simple was granted an additional layer of challenge when the angel started to kiss his fingers. The soft, steady presses of lips shot wave after wave of tingles through his hand, up his arm, and on through to the base of his skull, but somehow he still held onto the glass and remembered that he was supposed to be draining it.

Once he had given each digit its equal share of the attention, he backed off just enough to let Crowley finish drinking, then took the empty glass back from him to set it aside, once he had. "What _exactly_ are you thinking about, love? Tell me, if you can."

"I, er... well, I dunno. I guess this is just... it's a lot. Well, I mean-- _is it_ a lot? It _seems_ like a lot. But... we talked about it. We agreed on this. It was _my_ idea to do it now, 'n I don't regret it at all, don't want you to think I do-- not sure if I'm making any sense, my head feels kinda fuzzy. It just... everything kinda feels wobbly, y'know?" He rambled, mouth shooting off a mile a minute as his head settled against the edge of Aziraphale's arm. "I guess I just-- there's this part inside me - a dumb part, it's always a dumb part - that says it's fucked up to want you to do this stuff. 'S this thought, like... how could I ask this of _you?_ 'M feeling kinda like I _should_ be embarrassed and hide from you, like wanting this just makes me fucked in the head and not normal. More than we already knew I was, anyway."

If anything, the fact that they'd talked about it so thoroughly and had such a firm foundation going in actually made him feel _worse_ about this reaction. 

It was okay, deep down he was _sure_ it was okay, but then _why_ was he feeling like this despite that? It didn't make any sense to him, and he reckoned it wouldn't even if he was in full control of his faculties at the moment.

"I dare think my taking care of you, chains or no, is just as 'normal' as anything else, if it's something you enjoy." Aziraphale hummed, stroking Crowley's hair. _"Did_ you enjoy it, sweetest?"

All the metrics that he currently had access to had certainly seemed to say so, but he couldn't make assumptions.

Still, it was rather amusing when Crowley looked at him a bit dumbly, like he should've known. "Uh, yeah. Obviously." He nuzzled up toward Aziraphale's hand, feeling warm as ever from that fond touch. "I liked it, Angel. I _really_ liked it."

"Well, _I_ enjoyed it, too." Aziraphale smiled at him, loosely twirling a strand of copper hair around his finger. 

Crowley rolled over onto his side, facing Aziraphale more directly. "You did?" His tone of voice said he'd thought so, but he was looking for confirmation. It was more like 'You _really_ did?'

Aziraphale moved his hand to the back of Crowley's head to hold him steady so he could give him a kiss. Just a brief, chaste touch of lips, this time. Just to press some more love into him. "I did. Quite fully, in fact. I doubt if I could have enjoyed it any more if I'd tried to. Please don't think this is one-sided, dearheart. Despite what my nervousness might've said, I wanted to do this on my own account - you didn't in _any way_ coerce me into it, so please don't worry."

"You were so receptive to everything I gave you, and that encouraged me even more. It made me so happy to see that you were so into it. I mean that with everything I have in me, Crowley. You did _so well_ with this. It makes my heart feel so full, knowing that your trust in me runs this deep - that you'd allow me to do this for you, _especially_ right now." He said, fondly bumping his nose against Crowley's. "You don't have _anything_ to be ashamed about. There's nothing shameful about _any_ of this. It makes you feel good... you like what you like, and you are _allowed_ to do so - just as much as I'm allowed to enjoy providing it to you. I told you before... you don't ever have to be embarrassed of what you want from me, dearest. I meant that, too. I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it. As with most other things, I rather think that... mutual enjoyment and comfort is what matters the most, at least from my point of view. Other than ensuring the use of safe practice, in this case, that is."

Crowley melted on the spot. He got a sense of profound approval from those words. It covered him, that feeling of strangeness abated, and though it was only slightly, it was still enough to allow him a bit of coherent thought. As ever, it seemed that Aziraphale knew just what to say to cut straight through his qualms, like a hot knife. "Yeah... yeah, you're right." He was sure Aziraphale heard the 'sorry' in it that he didn't add out loud, but he still mentally shook himself. 

Of course it wasn't _weird._ He didn't know what he was thinking, or if he was thinking _at all_ at the moment. If he couldn't gel with the concept, or even if he just thought it wasn't a good idea for them, Aziraphale wouldn't have agreed to it in the first place. He _knew_ that. It just wasn't sticking to his fucking brain for some reason right now.

Crowley was suddenly a bit embarrassed that he'd asked the question, which Aziraphale read in his eyes, and it made him shake his head. "That said, this is a perfectly reasonable occurrence, dear. You're not in the wrong for experiencing some uncertainty over all of this. I'd obviously hoped to have you avoid it, but I've been made to understand that this happens, sometimes, when participating in this sort of activity."

Crowley looked at him sort of hopefully at the news that his reaction wasn't all that uncommon. "Y'mean... there's a reason?"

Aziraphale's hand was on his back, calmly smoothing over it. Crowley instinctively relaxed a bit more at the delicate touch. "Well, yes. There's actually a _very scientific_ reason behind it, in fact. It has to do with the human part of your physiology. We filled your brain with an overabundance of positive chemicals - you remember I mentioned them back when we first started being physical? Those are receding, since we've finished, and they aren't going to get replenished at anywhere near that same rate. Normally it gives them out to you in a slow drip, you see. This doesn't _always_ happen as a result, but the flood and then the subsequent deficiency you experience can produce these, or other similar feelings, I'm told." There was a bit more to the picture, of course, but a true deep dive into the particulars was probably best saved for another time, he thought. "I'm not sure if you've ever experienced this particular feeling before, being that you can sober up whenever you wish to, but... the physical sensation has been described as being like a hangover?"

Crowley blinked slowly. The explanation helped to soothe him in some way, even if the only thing he could really get out of it at the moment was that there was a certain price that might have to be paid in order to feel that good, and he was paying it now. He did _not_, however, think a little dip like this was _nearly_ enough to deter him from seeking those heights. He had suffered much worse, at the hand of his own mind, and that was _without_ the promise of any sort of payoff behind it. "Been past blackout drunk a time or two and left it, yeah. Not quite _familiar_, but I know... vaguely." He gestured in the air just as vaguely. "My head doesn't hurt. Just feels funny."

Aziraphale found he'd rather not push deeper on those circumstances, unless Crowley decided to tell him about it at a later date. "I see." Though he decided not to go into the concept in so many words at this very moment, their choice to delve into this type of dynamic made it _his_ responsibility to help alleviate the flashes of doubt - to contain and attempt to minimize these symptoms, should they appear, by liberally applying care to him. And, clearly, Crowley still needed at least a little something more, if he was feeling this way now. 

Honestly, the effect of this hitting Crowley so hard was somewhat difficult for Aziraphale to deal with, due to the fact that he didn't like to see him upset - and he was _especially_ sensitive to it at the moment, given what he'd done - but the rational part of his brain knew better than to actually let him feel hurt over it. It _wasn't_ a failure, no matter how hard it may have tried to present as one. He had been aware of this possibility and had _attempted_ to be ready for it. 

His findings had said this _could_ happen at any time, without much rhyme or reason, and even if everything was done exactly right. He'd managed to hold it off this time, perhaps delaying its onset, but he hadn't prevented it entirely.

He had to think that perhaps it had hit Crowley _right now_ because this was the first time they'd done all of this. The first foray into this world was probably at least a little bit overwhelming for just about _everyone_, let alone someone with an anxiety disorder as bad as Crowley's.

Perhaps it also had to do with the fact that emotions were already running so high before they'd started. Maybe he should've put his foot down and insisted they wait... maybe it would've prevented this from happening entirely. He couldn't help but think that, at least for a moment. But, at the same time... he had no way of knowing that for certain, and it had clearly been important to Crowley to do it _now,_ hot on the heels of that difficult situation that had brewed up.

What they'd done here hadn't been at all intense in comparison to some - he'd even say most - of the scenarios he'd read about in the course of his research, but it _was_ intense for _them._ The whole thing was brand new to both of them, after all, and Crowley's brain had already proven to be quite unpredictable in its response to a new concept, despite his actual feelings about it, so Aziraphale had known he'd have to be vigilant and prepared to battle against it if necessary.

But _this_ manifestation of unease seemed very mild in comparison to _some_ accounts he'd seen - the worst ones he'd read about had all seemed to gravitate toward the use of violent acts, so that was one thing off his mind - and that, at least, seemed like a blessing. 

Crowley was alright-- or would be, anyway, in fairly short order.

This was, in essence, just about the same as those bad moments that Crowley had emotionally... and Aziraphale thought he had performed quite decently at helping to get those fixed, so he had faith in himself here, as well. "Not to worry, though. Thankfully, this will subside. And, of course, I'm going to keep taking only the very best care of you, which should help speed the process along, as well. Anything you need, dearest, just say the word, and you will have it."

Crowley sighed, and Aziraphale could hear both longing and mild exhaustion in it. "I just need you." He had uttered this, or similar, multiple times before. It was rarely quite this true, though.

His eyes implored Aziraphale not to move away from him, and it was an easy wish to grant. Nothing in this world or the next could've possibly made him leave Crowley's side. "And you still have me, sweetheart. You will _always_ have me. I'm certainly not going anywhere." He told him, again, half turning toward him to kiss the top of his head. "Just relax, and be with me now. I'm here, and you're safe. You're fine, dear. You were so, so good for me, and I'm nothing but pleased with you. You've no need to fret. None at all."

Crowley laid his head down on Aziraphale's shoulder after that, pressing himself up against his side. "I know." He was feeling quite shipwrecked at the moment, but on a deep, core level, he knew he could trust Aziraphale to pull him back to the shore again.

One of Aziraphale's arms slipped under Crowley, holding him around the shoulders. "I'm sure that it's far too much to consider at present, so I'm not expecting an answer _now,_ but... when you can, I'd like you to evaluate whether you'd like to continue doing this, in the future."

He'd known this scenario was a possibility, of course, but he wouldn't have blamed Crowley if feeling like this put him off of the whole idea.

But Crowley shook his head, almost immediately. "No, I know I want to. Don't need to think about it."

"And... do you want to because you want to, or because I want to?" The wording was both extremely deliberate, and a bit of a feint. The completion of the experience had really solidified Aziraphale's interest in it, but the initial spark had been Crowley's desire to try it. He _did_ want it, but if Crowley _didn't_ want it anymore, well, that was that. He wouldn't have too hard a time of giving it up. He liked sex with Crowley, and he definitely liked _this_... but he'd gladly throw one or both of them away in an instant and never touch them again if they ever troubled his demon. Crowley's comfort was always his number one priority.

The words stirred Crowley's heart, and once again took him back to that first uncertain night he had shared his bed with Aziraphale, intimately - the night it truly became _theirs,_ not his alone. The return of the old question contained a certain familiarity that he latched onto, in attempt to help bring himself back out of this mist he'd been pulled into. His answer was the same as it had been back then. "Both."

"Mm. Yes, well... I'll keep that in mind, of course, but do know that I'm not going to hold you to something you're saying in this state. I shall inquire after your thoughts once you've had some time to digest all of this and things have righted themselves again. We'll have another chat about it then."

Crowley nodded. Even being a bit out of sorts, he knew that was reasonable.

"In any case, I'm so much more than proud of you for finding the courage to talk to me about this. Understanding the things you're feeling, and _why_ you're feeling them... that's an important part of coming out of something like this, when it happens. You're not hiding from me, no matter how much you may have felt like you wanted to. I know it must not have been easy, but you faced this directly, and I'm able to do my part to help you figure this out as a result. That's _so good_, Crowley. Really. It couldn't be understated." Aziraphale's eyes met his, and he thought if he concentrated enough he may be able to physically _feel_ the tenderness radiating from them. "If I may explain my position from before in a bit more detail for you... I truly relish any opportunity to dote on you and fulfill your desires. You're my partner, and I care for you very much. I don't see any way of expressing affection that could _ever_ be construed as odd, as long as it's consensual. But, you know, on the off chance that there was, I'd gladly claim being odd for you, without so much as a blink. I really wouldn't mind one bit." He told him, raising his other hand to apply a tender stroke over Crowley's reachable cheekbone.

Crowley's heart throbbed with affection at that, and it took all he had in him not to whimper pathetically with it. He buried his face in Aziraphale's chest, slinging a leg over him to end up half lying on top of him. _"Fuck,_ I love you."

"And I love _you,_ dear. Past the ends of the earth, in fact." This particular declaration somehow managed to amuse the both of them, and despite everything going on at the moment he felt the corners of Crowley's mouth pull up. "But... I do think I'd prefer to simply continue loving you within the borders of our bed for now, if that's all the same to you."

Crowley's hand gripped at the curve of his waist, clutching onto him with an edge of desperation and anchoring himself there, and that was all the answer he needed. 

The urge to hold him took over completely. "Come here, dove. I've got you." Aziraphale said, then reached over with his other arm, easily hoisting Crowley the rest of the way up on top of him. 

Crowley luxuriated in the attention and the fondness of the endearment. 'Dove' was a new one... it hadn't popped up before, not even when Aziraphale had been specifically trying things out. Or, at least, not that Crowley could recall. He was sure he would remember if it had, considering that he quite liked the way it made him feel.

"You're tired, aren't you." At Crowley's little hum of agreement, he gave him a comforting stroke against the back of his neck. It made so much sense that all of this - paired with his very emotional outburst - would've worn him out. "Have a nap if you like, darling. I'll be right here with you." He fixed the blanket, pulling it up and giving it more than enough slack to let it drape loosely over Crowley's shoulders. 

After that was done, he tucked Crowley's head beneath his chin and settled - his hands dipped into the small of Crowley's back, under the blanket. Soon he found himself whispering an endless stream of meaningful affection into copper hair as Crowley drifted off, wrapping his devotion around Crowley at the same time that he cradled him physically. 

Lying there with him, listening to the patterns of his breathing slowly dissolve into that familiar, sleep-steady rhythm, his sights were quite firmly set on nothing but cuddling the rest of his demon's cares away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole thing has been quite a character development process for me I have to admit. And I am still nervous about handling everything correctly but here I am serving myself up for judgement 😂
> 
> Until recently I had a pretty bad relationship with kinky content in fics because back during the time I was coming of age and originally joining fandom spaces there was like no healthy representation of it at all. The relationships were abusive or etiquette was otherwise not followed and it was all pretty messy, so the few fics I read that included it burned me pretty badly with regard to it.
> 
> I'm not _directly_ acquainted with the subject myself, but (through research and through exposure to well presented content) now I can at least recognize when things are being dealt with properly and when they aren't. It's still a pretty clear difference, even to somebody who only has tangential knowledge of how things are supposed to work!
> 
> This pair of chapters has been my first real shot at it but I can only hope I'm being as respectful as I want to be with it 🙏


	38. Chapter 38

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley's 'nap' had turned into a full night's sleep, but he woke with a _much_ clearer head than the one he'd gone to sleep with. He was still sort of in a daze, but he didn't feel _weird_ anymore.
> 
> When he opened his eyes, he received the blessing of Aziraphale being the first thing he saw. The angel had since changed their positions (probably a couple of times, if he had to guess) and in the current position, Crowley's head was in his lap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!!! 
> 
> I haven't got much to say for myself other than the fact that I have been having some intense bouts with my anxiety since I last updated... one of the worst things it ever does to me is it makes me unable to focus, which is not conducive to writing, least of all when it come to the quality I try to maintain!
> 
> I will _never_ abandon this fic, and that I can promise! You guys never have to worry about that. It just seems like I'm going to have to accept that I can't currently pump it out at the rate that I normally do and I may sometimes be forced into delinquency by my busted brain's failure to deal with life
> 
> TLDR: Sorry 'bout the wait, but here's some soft content! I hope y'all can forgive me if I can't stick to schedule like I normally do... America is a dumpster fire rn and I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster I can't get off lmfao

Crowley's 'nap' had turned into a full night's sleep, but he woke with a _much_ clearer head than the one he'd gone to sleep with. He was still sort of in a daze, but he didn't feel _weird_ anymore.

When he opened his eyes, he received the blessing of Aziraphale being the first thing he saw. The angel had since changed their positions (probably a couple of times, if he had to guess) and in the current position, Crowley's head was in his lap. 

Aziraphale's own head was turned to the side, and there was a book in his hand, which he was holding off the side of the bed. His other hand absentmindedly stroked Crowley's hair.

At first, Crowley didn't call attention to the fact that he'd woken up, preferring to just observe him and enjoy his passive attention.

His eyes lingered on the soft slope of the angel's jaw for a while, on that cute little fold of skin just under his chin that Crowley _loved_ to kiss... but eventually made their way down to watch the contractions of his throat as he swallowed and the way his chest rose and fell with those superfluous breaths that he didn't need but still expected himself to take.

Crowley was overcome, really. Aziraphale was _always_ so pretty to him, he almost didn't know how to handle it - and here, in his natural element, when he didn't seem to know he was being watched? Somebody might as well have just stuck a fork in him, because he was _done_. He could watch Aziraphale like this forever, probably.

He had dressed himself in the meantime; he was wearing the gray jumper that Crowley had stolen while he'd been away in Leeds, matched with a pair of monochrome tartan pyjama bottoms. He seemed quite comfortable, and it was pretty clear he had no plans to go anywhere, even if he _hadn't_ promised Crowley he wouldn't.

Soaking in that syrupy love of his was all fine and good - until his eyes finally trailed back up enough to notice that Aziraphale had his glasses on while he was reading, and then he let out a little involuntary whine. Aziraphale's eyes flicked to him immediately, presumably thinking he was having a nightmare, and he flushed when their eyes met. He felt caught somehow, like a child with their hand in the cookie jar.

But Aziraphale smiled at him, stroked his head _even more_ gently, and softness flooded his heart. "Good morning, dear."

"I love you." Crowley said, without pause. The feeling built so high within him that he'd felt like he'd explode if he didn't.

_"Well_, isn't that a treat to hear first thing!" Aziraphale laughed, and the jovial sound of it only stirred up Crowley's softness more. "I love you, too. It really is just _so_ precious, the way you react to these."

Crowley felt his cheeks flood with heat, and turned his head to the side so he wasn't looking at him so directly. "Ngk. 'S not my fault. _You're_ precious when you wear 'em."

But Aziraphale didn't let him slither away. The book was out of his hand and Crowley's chin had taken its place before he knew what hit him, and he couldn't even blink before he found Aziraphale fully in the center of his vision again. "Oh, is that so?"

"It is. You _know_ that's what I think, you bastard. You just wanna hear me say it."

"I _do_ want to hear it. I want to hear you express your feelings, always, and not bottle them or look away from them. No matter what they are."

Crowley swallowed. Aziraphale was holding him as gently as he always did, but he felt an undercurrent of authority there, too.

He wasn't sure if it was intentional or not, but there could only be one reason for it, he had to guess.

And thinking of _that_ also made him think another time about how it had all ended. "Angel, about last night..."

Aziraphale's thumb brushed over his cheek, feather light, and he barely suppressed a shudder at the tenderness. "We don't have to rush to talk about that right this instant, love. It can wait until you're ready."

"Mm-mm. I feel better. 'S fine." A little wrinkle appeared between his eyebrows as he collected his words. "Listen, I'm-- I'm sorry I got so weird about stuff. Y'didn't do anything wrong."

Again, that thumb brushed his cheek, a soothing touch, and it sent that wrinkle away. "I know, sweetheart. Like I told you, it happens." Aziraphale plucked the glasses from his face with his other hand, folding them up to set them aside so he could regard Crowley seriously. _"I_ didn't do anything wrong, but neither did _you_. I would _much_ rather you tell me how you're feeling than to bottle it up because you think I won't like what I hear, and you know that. The concept of that extends beyond what we do with the mind healing. I can't help you or correct things if I don't know there's a problem in the first place, and it's perhaps even more important that you're honest with me in this particular scenario. That makes sense, right?"

"Yeah."

"And besides that, you're not to apologize about the way you feel. Not ever. You _know_ I won't hear that."

"Sorry." Crowley said, almost automatically, and then realized straight after. "Ah, _shit_... I mean--"

Aziraphale smiled at him and gave a little chuckle, gently stroking the top of his head again. "Shh. It's alright."

He moved his hands to cradle Crowley's face between them, and it reminded him of the moment he'd done so the night before, making his heart beat a little harder. "At the risk of pushing your buttons... I really _do_ have to tell you how well you did for me last night. I know I told you in the moment, but I feel the need to reiterate now that we're at peace - it was still certainly serious enough, but I can assure you that from all the information I've absorbed on the topic, the drop you experienced was a very mild one. Now, that's not meant to invalidate your struggle, not at all. Diminishing your feelings on the matter isn't my goal in saying so, obviously. It's simply to let you know that your brain didn't completely betray you this time. We did what we could to help it, and as a result it staved off a reaction that could have been worse. But, in either case, _you_ faced it, and you got through it. You're so strong, and so good, and I'm very proud of you." 

The usual spike of arousal that such a declaration would normally produce in him just slid off his back this time, and Crowley looked up at Aziraphale with nothing but awe and admiration in his eyes. "Where has this angel that always knows what to say been all my life?" 

"I think he might _have_ always been here, just afraid to come out. Or... even if he wasn't here the whole time, he developed through learning and he's here _now _\- determined to make the next six thousand years many orders of magnitude better than the first."

"You're amazing, you know that?"

That only made Aziraphale laugh more. "I believe you've told me a few times, yes." He said, dipping one of his hands to guide his thumb over that thin strip of skin between Crowley's bottom lip and his chin. "I hope you know I feel the same way about you, as well."

"No way I wouldn't by now." Crowley hummed, taking hold of his wrist to stop his movement and turning his head enough that he could kiss the pad of Aziraphale's thumb. He couldn't even feign ignorance, not with the way Aziraphale always spoke so passionately about his pride in him.

The emotions he felt from that hit him even harder now.

He felt that something had changed between them, the night before. Things were different now, but not in a _negative_ way at all. Change wasn't _always_ bad, after all.

Thinking about it, Crowley reckoned he could characterize the feeling at least a little bit. The act of that exploration hadn't done anything to the bond they'd already had going in... rather than that, it was like it had added a new facet to it - like a new bud had grown off of the stem of their relationship, making a space for itself next to the brilliant bloom that was already there.

Something about the security of the moment gave him the courage he needed to speak up about it.

"This, um... it hasn't been _completely_ what I expected." 

Aziraphale regarded him thoughtfully. "What about it wasn't what you expected?"

Belatedly realizing how it sounded, Crowley winced. "Oh, I don't mean anything _bad_ by that. Mm-mm. I mean it's actually even _better_ than I thought it was gonna be. Don't know how that works, but... it definitely does." He hummed in thought as he considered how to put it into words. "It was all about me, and I had to let it be. I liked how it felt to have no choice but to let you take care of my needs. 'N yeah, I know I _did_ have a choice, but you get what I mean. Makes me excited to see what we'll get into from here on out."

"So... you _do_ want to continue, then?" 

Due to the language he was using, it was a fair conclusion to draw, but it was necessary to Aziraphale to get confirmation.

Crowley readily gave it to him when he sighed out _"Absolutely._"

"Even at the risk of _that_ occurring again? All the precautions in the world may not prevent it."

"Mm-hmm. 'M not afraid of that. It wasn't that bad on my end either, really... was just a shock since it was new to me. 'Sides, I've got you to help me through it if it happens again."

Aziraphale's shoulders drooped as the fondness hit him. Just then Crowley had said_ I trust you to be there and help me stand back up when I need you._ He'd said it with such conviction too - in a tone that called it obvious as the only answer. "You certainly do." He said, moving his hand to stroke the soft space behind Crowley's ear. "I am _always_ here for you, but that goes double in those circumstances."

Crowley felt warm under the attention. "Even if I didn't know anything else, I'd know that." He sighed pleasantly. "I like how this feels. 'S different from before, least I think so... but it's a good different. Didn't think I could, but I feel even closer to you than I did before."

"I find it ironic indeed that it stemmed from something so wretched."

"'M really not upset at you for keeping it from me. Wasn't just something I said to pacify you or get in your pants. I wouldn't do that, y'know? I just... it was something I wanted to do - to give myself over to you - to _prove_ to you that I trust you, that you didn't break it. I couldn't do that as well as I wanted to with just words." 

Aziraphale nodded. "I know, love. I didn't understand at first, but I got it eventually." He traced Crowley's tattoo with a finger, slow, light, and deliberate. "Perhaps I'm not quite over what I've done, but your demonstration _did_ do a lot to help me come around. I'm so happy that you trust me that much, at all, let alone after that."

"Well, 's like I said last night. You told me, 'n that's what counts. You had a chance there to keep holding onto it, but you didn't. To me, it doesn't matter that it took a while. It doesn't bother me, Angel. It really doesn't. You shouldn't let it bother you so much either."

"Yes, I know. It's something I'll be working on, for myself. With your blessing and your forgiveness, I'm sure it will be a more expedient process than it would be otherwise." He studied Crowley, suddenly remembering something else. "And are you still angry with _him?_ For a moment there..." He trailed off, not sure how best to complete that sentence.

Crowley huffed through his nose. "Guess not. I mean... it was his fault, but it also wasn't his fault. I dunno, he didn't-- he didn't _intentionally_ do any of it. But he _still_ did it." He wasn't sure if that made sense, but that was how he saw it. "I just feel bitter, _definitely_ bitter, but I think 'm allowed to be. 'S not something I think I can really get over, not all the way. My head might've been fucked up before that, 's debatable, but... thinking you were _dead_ hurt me so deep, Angel. I can't just forgive him for being behind that, _even_ _if_ he didn't mean it."

"I wouldn't ask you to, darling. It isn't for me to police your feelings, you know? My role here is simply to make sure you handle your negative emotions in a healthy way."

"And... am I?"

"I think it's too soon for me to make any determinations one way or another, when you're still sorting things out yourself... but the fact that you're even asking says that you _want to,_ at the very least. It's a _good_ thing."

Crowley rolled over and hugged him around his middle, nuzzling into the softness of him. "I love you." He said again, feeling it just as deeply as he had the last time. He was so much more than grateful for everything that Aziraphale continued to do for him.

"I love you more."

Crowley immediately reared up in exaggerated offense at the mere suggestion. "No chance. I love you _most."_

Aziraphale matched his energy perfectly, gasping at him. "Oh. Well, there's no way I can beat _that!"_

Crowley snorted proudly as he laid his head back down. "Damn right."

"Clever thing." The angel's tone was one of clear amusement. "While I reflect on my defeat, let's get back to other matters, if you don't mind... do you think you can give me a review of sorts? How did I do?"

"What d'you want to know, exactly?"

"What did you like most about it? Does anything stand out as something I can improve on for the future? Any feedback at all that you can give me will be helpful."

Crowley peered up at him through his lashes. "Uh... well, first of all... you were extremely fucking hot, so write that down."

Aziraphale laughed, which sent Crowley into a fit too. After a while, the angel jabbed him in the side with his elbow playfully. "Come on, now. Be serious."

"I _was_ being serious. That's a good look on you." Crowley pouted, briefly reaching down to rub the spot gingerly with his palm. "But I guess if you wanna know specifics..." He trailed off, unsure of what to bring up first. Aziraphale had done a bang up job, as far as he was concerned. Everything had been good. "I _really_ liked how you controlled my body. Like, I mean... when you kept me from coming before you wanted me to. _Ho-ly shit,_ Angel." He almost felt like he could get up to speed and be raring to go again in no time flat if he thought about it for too long.

"I didn't drag it out too far?"

"Mm-mm. It was fucking _perfect_. When I was getting close, I liked not knowing if you were gonna stop me or let me go. I would've told you if I didn't like it."

"So, the mystery of it was nice for you?"

"Yeah, and the way you talked to me was awesome too. I know it was mostly an in-character thing, but still. I dunno, I liked what you did. Guess this whole thing takes at least a little bit of acting, anyway... but that-- that different version of us we've been playing with sort of feels like it was made for this. Feels like we could do so much with it."

"And that prospect is exciting to you?"

"Yeah... it really is."

It felt sort of weird to be talking about it so openly, because he'd never been good at that, but he also felt like he was already getting better at it. The strong requirement for communication that this presented was good for that, he guessed.

He felt Aziraphale's hand at his wrist, suddenly, stroking over those tender spots that he'd made with all that pulling on the chains. "Forgive me for noticing, dear... but I couldn't help realizing that you don't really have any hobbies - aside from caring for your plants, and I'm not totally sure that counts, either."

Crowley lifted his head back up to look at him directly, raising an eyebrow at the abrupt change of topic. "Uh... yeah, I guess? Dunno. Never really seemed worth it."

"Perhaps not, with Hell breathing down your neck. But it could be _now_. It may be a good idea for you to try and find something you like to do, to fill the hours that we're apart. A place to pour your extra energy into, if you will. When one has a disorder like yours that can cause so much overthinking, it's typically not the best idea to have too much idle time lying around. I have some slight concerns that this foray into new territory may have some adverse effects on you, as far as that goes." 

Up until that sentence, his choice to bring that up really hadn't made sense to Crowley, but after that, it started to. He was worried that Crowley might regress a bit when it came to being okay with being by himself as a result of the new bond they'd forged.

"Of course, I'm not _telling_ you to keep yourself busy. You in no way _have to_. If you're happy with how you spend your time, and it isn't bothering you, that's good enough for me. It's just a suggestion. Something to consider." Aziraphale shrugged. "All I want is for you to be as well as you can be. Thinking about things is healthy, up to a point, but crossing the line into overthinking can be all too easy."

"I know." Crowley couldn't help but be very sure of that, having fallen into that pit so many times. "I will consider it. Promise."

"Good. That's all I ask."

"D'you wanna make plans for today now that I'm up?"

"By the end of it, I'm sure it will definitely feel like overkill, but I still feel a desire to take care of you. I want to give you the day that you'd like most, so I'd considered giving you free reign to choose our schedule. What do you think?"

Crowley wriggled back up into the position he'd fallen asleep in the night before - laid against Aziraphale's chest with his head tucked under his chin. He felt so safe and cared for there, even more so than usual. "Mmf. Think you'll be disappointed if you expected me to wanna move. If we just cuddled all day, I wouldn't be upset about it. Feels nice to be here."

"Oh, that's the _least_ I can do. Besides that, what would you like?" Aziraphale asked, settling his hand on Crowley's back and smiling as his demon flexed his shoulder blades toward the touch.

"Later, let's order takeaway from that little Japanese place you like. 'M craving the tempura."

Aziraphale gave a sound of agreement. "You were mistaken if you thought I was going to let you go to the trouble of cooking today, so it's good that you've come up with an alternative on your own." He chuckled.

"Let's get some sake, too. Been a while since we just sat and got properly pissed."

Aziraphale chuckled at the notion, but nodded his assent. "That sounds lovely, dear."

Crowley's eyes settled on the book Aziraphale had set aside. "Will you read to me a little bit, now?"

"Of course I will, sweetheart." His eyes followed the trail of Crowley's, down to the book. "I'm afraid _that_ particular book would be frightfully boring for you, however."

"I just like listening to you read. Don't really care what it's about."

"Oh, you old charmer." Aziraphale hummed, leaning back to press a little kiss to his forehead. "I won't put you through that, though. I've got something else in mind, if you're amenable. Something I think you'll actually enjoy."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yes. I think it's_ just_ the thing, in fact." Aziraphale said, and snapped his fingers.

A book sporting a well aged, beige colored dust jacket appeared in his hand, behind Crowley's head. "Are you comfortable, sweetest?"

"Mm-hmm. Lay it on me, Angel."

"Alright." Aziraphale said, and then cleared his throat and began to read.

Or, at least he made it _appear_ that he was reading. 

_Here is Edward Bear, coming downstairs now, **bump**, **bump**, **bump**, on the back of his head, behind Christopher Robin. It is, as far as he knows, the only way of coming downstairs, but sometimes he feels that there really is another way, if only he could stop bumping for a moment and think of it. And then he feels that perhaps there isn't. Anyhow, here he is at the bottom, and ready to be introduced to you. Winnie the Pooh._

Even if he knew this particular story off by heart, and didn't need to so much as look at the page, he was glad to put in the work with a bit of theatrics for Crowley.

In either case, that lovely tone that his voice took on when he read aloud was there in full force as he vocalized the passage, and Crowley enjoyed it immensely, as he always did. It was actually even nicer in the position he was currently in, when he could _feel_ the rumble of Aziraphale's voice.

The little rush of excitement in his chest when he actually realized what exactly it was that Aziraphale was reading him... well, it also told Crowley that Aziraphale was right. He _was_ going to enjoy this. 

Crowley smiled, despite himself, and settled in to hear the tale of his angel's favorite little yellow bear.


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, he remembered the _other_ thing Aziraphale had asked him to do-- or, well, he hadn't _asked_ him, per se, but had simply made a suggestion. It was the innocent type of suggestion, the type that wasn't tied to the new roles the two of them had taken on with each other.
> 
> But either way, Crowley had promised to heed it, so now he needed to figure out where the fuck to start. He was supposed to be trying to find himself a hobby... so it needed to be something he liked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest I'm in a very poor state right now but I had a burst of what I can only describe as manic energy the other day and subsequently busted most of this out during that period of time  
I'm pleased to actually have something to offer you guys this week  
It's a cute little aside and I'm happy with it so here you are  
I hope y'all enjoy it <3

Crowley resumed his normal routine when Aziraphale finally went back to work (it took him about 3 more days to get the proper motivation to do so) and he was at the stage of his day that meant he had recently finished his work with the plants, so he was currently lounging on the sofa with a blanket draped over his legs, watching The Golden Girls.

Contrary to what Aziraphale had been worried of, he seemed to still be doing pretty well by himself. He'd recovered just fine from his drop, and he hadn't had any similar issues since. Nothing out of the ordinary was going on, at any rate.

In lulls between episodes, while he waited for the next one to start, he'd been throwing his head back and thinking about what they'd gotten up to a few days ago, and it wasn't bothering him to do so. It wasn't distressing at all to think about it while Aziraphale was out and away from him - in fact, it was nice. 

He was latching onto it, the novelty of something new - among many other things about it - and he was unable to get it off of his mind for very long, true, but he hadn't necessarily been trying to. He liked it. Thinking about it made him feel warm, rather than uncomfortable or achy in some way. The more he sat and considered it like this, the more he realized how far it really was up his alley.

He had been so independent for so long, doing _everything_ for himself... and he was _still_ quite independent, but it would be a lie to say it was completely the same. It couldn't be, with Aziraphale there. It was so nice to have that option now, to be able to rely on him, to be taken care of sometimes. 

He hadn't thought his affection for Aziraphale - or their bond, for that matter - could carry on deepening, after six millennia, but it did. It had been doing so, and it still continued to. It hadn't stopped, not once, since they gained freedom and truly found each other, and branching out this way had just functioned as if they had sprayed some accelerant onto it.

Suddenly, he remembered the _other_ thing Aziraphale had asked him to do-- or, well, he hadn't _asked_ him, per se, but had simply made a suggestion. It was the innocent type of suggestion, the type that wasn't tied to the new roles the two of them had taken on with each other.

But, either way, Crowley had promised to heed it, so now he needed to figure out where the fuck to start. He was supposed to be trying to find himself a hobby... so it needed to be something he liked. He guessed he didn't have to find the perfect fit on the first try, though of course it would be a lot simpler if he did. 

The only problem was that deep down (or perhaps not _that_ far down, really) he was just a lazy person. Along with the whole 'wanting to have an excuse to be around Aziraphale' thing, one of the major catalysts for The Arrangement had been the fact that he just didn't want to do his job. He hadn't wanted to work toward that ultimate goal... not _ever_, really. He'd burst from the ground and made his grand debut on the planet already holding a neutral opinion of the process. He began a quick slide toward his ultimate stance on it not too long after that, and he was especially soured on it once the centuries started to pass and he got used to the way things were among humans. Life on Earth was too nice to see it end. He enjoyed it too much. He'd always sort of known Aziraphale felt the same way, even if he'd taken longer to come to terms with it, and had a harder time admitting it.

But regardless of anything else, as a result of that personality Crowley had developed, sifting through a huge pile of activities and trying them at random sounded like a huge pain in the arse, so he crossed that method off right away. Surely there had to be something he could do in order to narrow it down before he started investing in things.

He tended to create more problems than he solved, when thinking... but he didn't really see how it could go wrong in this situation in particular, so he sat up a bit, hugged his legs to his chest, and let the sounds of the telly fade into mere background noise.

From the outset, he knew he could write off a few things. Anything physical was out. Anything that required other people was out.

Aziraphale was, of course, the only exception to both of those things... but since he was meant to be finding something to do for _himself_, it was a bit of a moot point.

Preferably, it would be an activity he could do at home. He didn't want to have to be gallivanting around London every time he felt like doing something. He didn't mind doing it every once in a while, when he actually wanted to go out, but travelling around the city without the Bentley was a chore, and he had no intention of taking it back from Aziraphale.

Briefly, that reminded him that he still hadn't gotten to see the other drive, while he'd been of sound mind, and he still really wanted to. He'd have to figure that out soon, too.

He shook himself of that fairly quickly, knowing he would get distracted if he thought about it too much, and dutifully returned to his brainstorming.

Aside from the things he'd already knocked out, he supposed he could start with the most common ones that he knew about off hand.

The lingering thought of Aziraphale sparked a thought about books, which led him to writing first.

But the idea was soundly rejected, fairly soon after the thought had formed.

As chuffed as he knew he'd be to have Aziraphale read a book _he_ wrote, he also knew he hadn't the patience for writing, or for dealing with the publishing process (he could obviously find a way around that part of it, but he felt the end product would be cheapened if he did), nor could he even begin to think of anything he could possibly write _about_. 

He supposed that when it came down to it, he _could_ spin a good yarn, to adapt something out of all the knowledge in his head and the things he'd witnessed - it would just need some kind of extra kick, like a supernatural wrapping that was very real but simultaneously unbelievable to humans - but, again, laziness. If he was being honest, he couldn't see himself sitting around for hours on end trying to put words on a page.

Related to that, reading was out, too. He'd been lying when he told Aziraphale he didn't read books, full stop - which was, coincidentally, why he didn't, or _couldn't_, look straight at him while he said so - but most of the time he found it difficult to concentrate enough and for _long enough_ to read. His ability to muster it wasn't sufficient for novels, at any rate. The books he _did_ have interest in, enough to hold him through to finishing, and maybe even returning to, had titles like 'The Extremely Big Book of Astronomy', after all. Just on a base level, he didn't get even half as much enjoyment out of it as the angel did, either.

He began to realize he was slowly going down the list of common school subjects that the humans used, which made him laugh a bit, and he figured he might as well continue that trend.

There was no point in him getting involved in any kind of history related hobbies, since he had literally been _around_ for all of that, and been directly involved for a decent percentage of it too. Not to mention the fact that it definitely violated his rule about not including other people, in both a literal and metaphorical sense. 

No, he hadn't been in every place for every event, but he knew enough about the major ones, and really had no interest in every minute detail of every single human culture that had existed. That was a headache and a bore just to think about. He liked humans and all, but not _that much_.

The sciences were fair game, he supposed, but he wasn't particularly interested in keeping animals, in rocks - no matter how pretty they were, or in blowing things up (on purpose)... and engineering was one of the worst things those hairless apes had ever come up with, in his opinion, aside from the very specific kind that had allowed for the invention of cars.

As an aside, car related hobbies weren't at all viable for him either, since he only cared about _his_ car. He didn't care about how they worked - and besides, he obviously knew that already. He didn't need to know how to fix them, because he could do that with the snap of a finger, if the Bentley ever got the wrong idea and decided that it was going to have a mechanical issue. He had no interest in starting a car collection, and even if he had, storing them would be a right pain in the arse, living in a flat in the middle of London. Racing didn't interest him, competitive as he could be sometimes, and as well suited to it as he would definitely be, with the way he already drove on a day to day basis.

Back to the sciences, he had his plants, but Aziraphale already said that didn't count. He was interested in the stars, obviously, since he had a hand in making them, but stargazing in a city was just about impossible due to light pollution, and having that as a hobby would probably be colored by the fact that it would dredge up old pain by constantly reminding him of the work he had done pre-Fall. He couldn't just separate that out.

That led him to art, next.

It was a subject he had a quite curious reaction to, once it crossed his mind. It was the first to actually make him pause and think about it for more than ten seconds without dismissing it for one reason or another, which immediately indicated a possible lead.

He could see himself being an artist, he guessed. He'd never really tried it, so he wasn't sure he had the knack for it. 

There were so many different types of art, though. If one didn't suit him, another might.

But, no matter which one he went with, art didn't have to involve going out, wasn't overly physical, and likely wouldn't require much reading to pick up, in the age of video tutorials.

In other words, it seemed perfect for his purposes.

Yes... the more he thought about it, the more sure he was becoming that this was the path he wanted to attempt first.

But the question then became... what type of art should he go for, to start with?

He'd known a few artists, in his time. Of course, he'd been the most fond of Leonardo da Vinci... other than Aziraphale, he was the only person Crowley would ever say had truly been his friend. _Clearly_, the feeling had been mutual, too. The man had even agreed to sell him the original sketch of the Mona Lisa, for fuck's sake. They hadn't known it at the time, but that was so special. Not only was it the superior version of that particular piece - a fact the two of them had agreed on - the other copy was going to go on to be one of the most famous paintings in history.

A lightbulb lit up over his head, thinking about that, and his answer came to him, all at once: _painting_. Leonardo had always seemed to like it, and it had never seemed to be that difficult. Of course, he was sure that mastering it - at _that_ level, anyway - was probably out of his reach, but some of the things that passed for fine art these days gave him confidence, at least.

Even if he didn't manage to make something that was anything more than passable, he could attempt it. Then he could at least say he'd tried _something_.

Not that he would stop trying to find a fit if that didn't stick, of course. Although this wasn't like that, he still found himself with that feeling of wanting to be good for Aziraphale, to make the angel pleased with him and make him proud. The sensation it drew up inside him was quite addicting, and it was a good motivator for him, to know that approval was waiting - it worked well to prod him to do things to help himself, beyond the fact that he simply should.

Anyway, he was sure he'd been told that painting was supposed to be pretty relaxing, now that he thought about it, so it seemed like it would fit the bill perfectly for someone like him, for what he was trying to achieve here. Aziraphale's idea in suggesting this to him in the first place was with that sort of goal in mind, he'd said so.

He guessed he just had to figure out what he needed to get in order to start with it, in that case. An easel came into existence with a little 'pop', next to his throne, and he pulled the blanket off his legs so he could get up and study it. After some quick Googling, he learned that what he had conjured up was called an 'A-frame' easel, and it was best for working with limited space, since it was the smallest type and could easily be folded up for storage.

A thought came to him, related to that. Would he tell Aziraphale about this, right away? _Should_ he? Well, probably. He could see the possible benefit of immediately telling him that he'd figured out something he wanted to try... but, at the same time, he didn't know if he wanted to tell him while he was still in this initial phase, unsure it would work out. There was also a part of him that wanted to hold off, in case he stuck with this, and surprise Aziraphale with a good, finished painting - something he was happy with.

Aziraphale hadn't given him a time limit on this, or anything... in fact, he had no expectations whatsoever, he'd left everything very open to Crowley's discretion. He'd told him he didn't have to do it at all, and he probably didn't expect him to jump to it this soon, if he _did_ end up doing it.

Something told him the angel would check in about it eventually, though, just to see what he'd ended up choosing.

That meant it was a decision he would have to make _soon_ \- but not necessarily _right now_, he supposed, so he put it on the backburner for a bit and returned to his searching.

Next he summoned up a canvas panel - a fairly small one to start with. He didn't want to overwhelm himself by trying to paint a fucking mural or something on his first go.

After that, he got a few different types of palettes to test putting his paint on, and some stuff called 'liquid white', which, after he got done laughing at the name, he then finished reading the blurb that noted it was to be used on the canvas before starting to paint.

As for the paints themselves, he decided to hold off on getting them for the moment, until he actually decided exactly what he wanted to paint. Each project that he could possibly decide to do would require different colors, and he didn't want to have tons of them lying around that he'd then have to find a space for, especially if he ended up deciding to keep this whole thing a secret for now.

That brought him to the ultimate decision of the moment, though. What _was_ he going to paint?

Animals and people seemed too technical for a beginner who didn't already draw... it was likely that they would end up looking like a child did them, and that would probably put him off from the whole process.

Architecture was an idea, he supposed. Lots of straight lines and angles, more than likely, depending on what exactly he'd decide on. That was really another thing he'd like to get some practice under his belt before attempting, though. It seemed prone to suffer the same problem of looking a bit silly if he didn't learn to use perspective first.

Landscapes, though... that actually sounded pretty appealing. There was much more room to adapt and fix little fuck ups with a landscape painting, it seemed like, and he was almost certain he was going to be making mistakes at first. It had the issue of perspective, too, but from what he could tell it would be much easier to correct himself if he practiced with trees and bushes instead of buildings.

He planned not to cheat with this, after all, excluding the supernatural shopping sprees he would continue to go on in order to avoid actually going out to the shops to get his stuff. With the technique itself, he had plans to play it completely straight. He wanted to learn it genuinely, so he'd feel like he truly deserved that feeling of pride in his chest that he'd get if he could show Aziraphale something nice that he made.

He finally paused the show that had still been playing that whole time, saying a quiet little apology to the girls, and switched over to casting to the TV from his phone.

For lack of a better method to pin down a starting point, Crowley simply pulled up YouTube, searched 'painting', and tapped on the first result with a landscape in the thumbnail, without paying much attention.

He expected that things would begin straight away, so, once the page loaded, he was immediately greeted by a kind looking man.

When the man spoke, his voice was, impossibly, even kinder than his face. "If this is your first time with us, allow me to extend a personal invitation for you to get your brushes and your paints, and paint along with us each show. And, if you've been with us before, please allow me to thank you for inviting us back for another series of painting shows. We'll use about a dozen colors, and some unorthodox brushes, and each show I'll show you how to put some of nature's masterpieces right here on the canvas."

Crowley paused the video, realizing via context clues that he needed to make a few more preparations before getting properly stuck in. He materialized tubes of paint that matched the smears he could see on the palette that the man was holding, and then collected a palette of his own from the stack he had procured earlier and arranged the paints in the same fashion that he saw on the screen.

He also got some cleaning cloths and a well of paint thinner ready, setting everything up so that it was within reach, so he didn't have to get up again once he got into it. He set his phone on the surface of the desk, letting it hold itself up on a little kickstand that wasn't normally there, and tapped to resume the video.

"So, I'll tell you what, let's get started."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is yet another episode of 'how many of the common tropes can I cram into this one fic' since the fandom as a whole seems to love the idea of artist!Crowley [usually in some sort of AU form but hey we do what we want here] and I am definitely in that camp
> 
> And he starts learning to paint from Bob Ross because of course he does  
There was actually some thought behind that on my part believe it or not  
The man is legendary and does the real work with his positive affirmations and ability to calm people down with his general chillness  
Perfect fit for our anxiety noodle don't you think :P 
> 
> Btw, the dialogue I used here was pulled from Island in the Wilderness [S29 E1] which is one of my favorites and also happens to be the most viewed video on the YouTube channel


	40. Chapter 40

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Crowley was puttering around in the kitchen, where he'd spent most of his day crafting recipes for lunches to send Aziraphale off to work with.
> 
> Now he had moved on to desserts, but he'd exhausted most of his creative energy, so he'd decided to just try to get something ready before Aziraphale got back. That lead him to go with a tried and true classic; he had some chocolate chip cookies baking.
> 
> He had grown a bit weary of trying to make 'happy little trees' (a phrase which made him snort every time he heard or thought about it, because it was just so damned silly... although he did have to admit he had been enjoying the general vibe of positivity in the presentation and felt that it was providing a little extra kick of calming for him, in addition to what the act of painting itself was doing) for the moment - he hadn't gotten it quite right yet. The man made it seem far easier than it was in practice, and it was sort of frustrating... so he was glad to have a reprieve, which he was looking at as an opportunity to recharge for another wave of pushing his skills. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I were to describe this chapter in one word, that word would be **soft**  
S/O to the peeps in the GO-Events server for helping me wake up my brain matter and finally get this done <3

Crowley was puttering around in the kitchen, where he'd spent most of his day crafting recipes for lunches to send Aziraphale off to work with.

Now he had moved on to desserts, but he'd exhausted most of his creative energy, so he'd decided to just try to get something ready before Aziraphale got back. That lead him to go with a tried and true classic; he had some chocolate chip cookies baking.

He had grown a bit weary of trying to make 'happy little trees' (a phrase which made him snort every time he heard or thought about it, because it was just so damned silly... although he did have to admit he had been enjoying the general vibe of positivity in the presentation and felt that it was providing a little extra kick of calming for him, in addition to what the act of painting itself was doing) for the moment - he hadn't gotten it quite right yet. The man made it seem far easier than it was in practice, and it was sort of frustrating... so he was glad to have a reprieve, which he was looking at as an opportunity to recharge for another wave of pushing his skills. 

In general, it was going _okay_ so far... he had since returned to the very start of the production, to watch it from the beginning, and he was learning - even his untrained eye could see that every time he tried painting that way, he got at least a little bit better - though he wasn't even close to where he wanted to be yet.

But ultimately he was trying to be patient and give it time, and breaks seemed like they would help with that.

He was going to miss beating the absolute piss out of his brush to dry it after it was cleaned between colors - he was in vehement agreement with the man himself that it was one of his favorite parts of the method - but he'd be back to it soon enough.

Like he had a habit of doing, Aziraphale came through the door at just the right time, immediately putting all of that to bed.

"Oh, my. It smells _divine_ in here."

Crowley perked up right away at the sight of him, and popped up from his chair to go and greet him.

At the last second, he decided to launch himself at Aziraphale, to try and get one over on him, but the angel caught him as readily as if it had been something they'd planned ahead of time. He spun around in a half circle with him, then moved him to rest in the crook of his arm.

"Well, hello to you too."

Crowley hugged him around the neck, not bothered in the slightest that his attempts at mischief had been thwarted once he was in that embrace. "You're home early."

"You say that as if I actually have a schedule." Aziraphale huffed, betraying his amusement at the mere idea. "I suppose I would've been ahead to simply stay home today. My nerves frayed rather easily."

"You okay?"

"Yes, dear. Right as rain, no need to worry." He said, and leaned in to press a kiss to Crowley's tattoo. "It's lovely of you to check. I just decided I'd much rather spend my time with you."

Crowley smiled at that, and moved to climb back down from him. "Well, not like I'm complaining."

"I should hope not." The angel retorted, giving a little eye roll for effect. "Now, what _is_ this lovely aroma that's all over the flat? You simply _must_ tell me."

"'M making you cookies. Was hoping to have them all ready when you got back."

Aziraphale beamed at him. "What a sweetheart."

"I try." He said, preening in response to the approval. "They should be done soon, actually. Want one?"

"Best let them cool properly. No miracles, please."

Crowley shrugged, not sure what the difference was, but he was well aware that Aziraphale would know better than him. He moved back into the kitchen to check them, and as it seemed they were done, he removed them from the oven and set them out to cool.

"Would you be up for some talking, darling?"

"Yeah, sure. I'm game. Have you got something in mind?"

Aziraphale hummed as he settled himself into the sofa. "Well, not really. I thought we might do something slightly more informal today, if you're amenable."

Crowley climbed up into his lap, kneeling over him. "Informal as in, I can lay on you while we talk?"

"I knew you'd understand." Aziraphale chuckled. "Although, if you were set on it, you could lay on me more often while we do the whole formal business, too. I wouldn't mind overmuch. I'd just have to draw a bigger circle to make sure your legs stayed in."

"I love you."

That just turned the remnants of Aziraphale's chuckle into a full on laugh, and the bubbly nature of it bathed Crowley's heart in warmth. "For that?"

"For everything."

"Well, I love you, too. For everything."

Crowley took his face between his hands and gave him a sweet kiss for his trouble, and he looped his arms around the back of his demon's neck. "Have you anything on your mind today, dear?"

"I mean, not really... but I'll probably think of something if I sit here long enough."

"Indeed, the perils of an anxious mind. But... in some cases, we can make it work _for_ us, rather than against us."

Crowley smiled at that. "I like that."

"Well, I like _you_." Aziraphale told him, pulling him in close to press kisses to the corner of his jaw, and behind his ear. "Seems you're in luck."

A sound escaped Crowley that was a laugh-whine hybrid. "Quit it, I'll get distracted." 

This was what he _said_, of course, but the conviction behind the words didn't sound nearly as strong aloud as it had in his head. It made the angel smile, but he relented and let Crowley sit back up a bit, then moved his arms down to slide them around Crowley's chest instead, holding him under the armpits.

It was quiet for a time, but Crowley genuinely was sitting there trying to come up with something to talk about.

An odd, sort of morbid curiosity came upon him after a while.

"D'you think-- I mean, have you ever thought about trying to compel me into dropping the anxiety? Wouldn't that work?"

Aziraphale looked equal parts inquisitive and horrified as he weighed the question. "I would never so much as consider doing something like that without at least asking you for your input, dear. And, aside from that, I've never really..." His brow creased. "I haven't done that, before. Compelled anyone, I mean. So much of it could go wrong, and given the nature of it, the Holiness may hurt you or have some other nasty effect on you, and I won't be party to that. That sort of thing would be far too risky." 

Crowley paled at the thought of it. "Y-Yeah, I guess you're probably right."

"I also think that it would be rather likely for it to ultimately lead to an unsatisfactory result. It seems to me that it would be rather like brainwashing you. It would be like making you walk around with a board strapped to you to correct your posture and keep your back straight. No, I would much rather you remain fully yourself, and retain your faults, than for you to be 'perfect', but potentially lose a part of yourself in the process."

"Mmf. I might be fucked up, but I like me the way I am, thanks."

"I wholeheartedly concur."

"Glad that mystery is sorted out. Wasn't sure if you'd agree. Had me up for days, that one." Crowley said, spreading the sarcasm on thick as he could. "Now lay down, will you? My legs are getting tired."

Aziraphale gave a huff of amusement. "Of course, sweetheart." He said, and then did as Crowley had requested. He found himself covered in a thin layer of demon soon after, Crowley settling between his legs with lanky arms thrown around his generous middle. The way he started so far down made Aziraphale feel sort of like he was a cupcake and Crowley was the frosting on top, albeit about half melted off.

It was a funny thought, and he chuckled over it as he reached down to put his hands on Crowley. "My, you're extra cuddly today. Perhaps I really _should_ have just stayed in."

"There's sort of a _reason_ I'm so clingy, y'know."

He realized after he'd said it that it sounded kind of bristly, but he didn't have a chance to say anything more before Aziraphale's hands began to smooth over his back, between and over his shoulder blades. It felt as though he were practically reaching into the other plane, actually stroking Crowley's wings. The idea calmed him and made his heart race, all at the same time.

"Oh, you don't need to justify it. That's not what I meant - I don't find it to be in any way troublesome, dearheart. I very much enjoy touching you. I like holding you close, and simply having you near. Why, I think even if you were literally attached to my side, 24/7, I wouldn't have enough of it now. I think we had too many missed opportunities to ever make up the difference."

"Me too. That _is_ the reason, really. I hated it, back when we couldn't do this."

"Hm?"

Crowley shifted slightly in his lap to balance his chin on top of the swell of Aziraphale's belly, looking up at him from there as he spoke. "I mean... I hated it when the humans just up and decided that they shouldn't touch each other so much anymore. They put up guards. I'd be willing to bet it was a gradual thing for them, but for me it felt like all of a sudden I turned around and they'd gotten distant. Blending in dictated that we had to do it too. There used to be-- well, it wasn't like _now_, but you used to touch me so casually. You prob'ly didn't even realize you were doing it, or you wouldn't have done, I think."

"What did I do?"

"You'd pat me on the shoulder, or let your hand skirt across my back when you passed behind me in a crowd, to let me know you were there. Stuff like that... but when they stopped, you did too. I guess you were always more conscious of those things than me. It was different, after that, like that was the foundation of the wall that went up. I still enjoyed being with you whenever I could, but I missed that so fucking bad, how casual we used to be. Even before that _shit_ started to happen, things went a little bit cold between us, and I couldn't stand that, but there was nothing I could do about it."

The thought yanked at something that was lodged deep down in his gut, and was gradually pulling it free. He sighed, his eyes dropped to trace the lines on Aziraphale's bow tie, and he gave himself to it.

"And then that shit _did_ happen, and we had those fights, and you had all these hangups over Heaven and your duty. I was deep in my own shit, too - already working on becoming the mess I am now. I n_eeded_ you. I needed us to be like we used to... I needed to be able to talk to you, I needed the touch, but I couldn't just say that, could I? I couldn't just ask you for it like nothing happened. You weren't in a position to give that to me, even if I'd had the courage to stand in your face and tell you. We weren't like we are now. I couldn't be honest, and neither could you. It hurt at the time, but it would've been our ruin if we were. It wasn't fucking _safe_, so I just kinda sat there and stewed in it. By the end of it I convinced myself it was okay just to be next to you, that I didn't need to expect more than that. I convinced myself I wasn't good enough for it, anyway, so I'd just fucking drop it and stop thinking about it _constantly_."

It _was_ safe now. It might have been hard - very hard - for him, in the beginning, but he had eventually gotten with the concept that what Aziraphale was offering - what he provided to him when they had these talks - was a safe space.

Crowley wasn't sure if he really had a specific point he was trying to make, in this particular instance, but in any case, he felt that it was alright for him to talk about his feelings _now_, in whatever capacity they manifested. It wasn't that he had been consciously holding it back, but it felt okay for him to let this out.

"Then you just took down the barrier, the day after everything, when I freaked out the first time. You did it like it was _nothing_ \- when I needed you most you were right there, like you'd never left, like the wall never existed in the first place. It was _stupid_, how easy it was." He huffed out a laugh that carried just a tinge of bitterness to it, like slightly over-steeped tea. "D'you know... when I asked you to lie with me, I really thought you'd say no. It was too soon, too close to all that for you to have felt safe. I know you put that aside for me. I _know_, and I can't thank you enough for that."

"I couldn't just leave you, darling, even if I was afraid. I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I knowingly allowed you to suffer like that. I love you - even if I hadn't said yet, and even if I'd recently done things that would cast reasonable doubt on that assertion, it had been true for a while. I know you've heard me say this before, but part of loving someone is helping them. Loving you gave me the override I needed to face my own fears and take that first step. The thought of helping you gave me a new purpose, and that was more important than continuing to be frightened of something I knew-- something I'd been _shown_ was nonsense."

"I dreamt about touching you for six thousand years... like, _really_ touching you. Doing it clearly, freely, and with purpose, not letting it be something I could hand wave away somehow if you got skittish. You were always more scared than I was, and I never wanted to make you feel trapped. I always tried to... leave you a way out, you know? I'd give you the excuses, when I knew you needed them. I learned to see the signs of it. Most of the time you'd take them, without even realizing you were doing it."

Looking at their interactions through that lens squeezed Aziraphale's heart, and it hurt. The more layers he learned about, the less he liked, but that was part of the point of all of this - confronting those feelings. 

He knew well that there was nothing he could've done about most of it... but some of it-- _some of it_ he could've been much better about.

He hauled Crowley up - pulled him closer into his chest, stroked the back of his head... and felt him relax in his lap.

"Every time I slept, I had dreams about holding you, about being held by you. Both. It was always innocent, in my dreams - I did all my Lusting in my waking hours. In my dreams I only wanted it to be like this. Intimacy, but this kind, not _that_ kind." His eyes were unfocused now, as he sank into the comfort Aziraphale was offering him. "Sometimes, out of the blue, it still just gets me, y'know? For such a long time, I couldn't even _think_ about being like this with you. I can't believe I can actually have it, and I feel so fucking lucky."

"I feel _I'm_ the lucky one in this scenario. You took care of me long before I started doing it for you. You've more than done your fair share. All that happened - and all I _directly_ did, to put you off, yet you still never stopped loving me." He hugged Crowley close, wanting nothing more in that moment than to hold him and never let him go again. "You are truly amazing, Crowley. If nothing else, I never want you to let the darkness in your mind tell you otherwise."

"Fighting this fight has definitely taught me stuff I don't think I would've learned otherwise. Seems y'need the dark to show the light, right?" He knew he was being a bit cheeky, lifting a piece of such profound wisdom off of a painter, but it also really seemed to make sense, in this scenario.

"That's a good way to put it, I think." Aziraphale said, and looked over him appreciatively, none the wiser. "It's a far more realistic goal to _manage_ your darkness, rather than attempt to banish it completely. It doesn't do to erase your experiences entirely, to simply pretend that they didn't happen at all - that isn't healthy, for one, and it would also make your suffering meaningless. It's about addressing them, and learning from them."

Crowley nodded, able to easily see the logic. After all, that was what they were doing here.

A thought came to him, then, following the trail down from the thoughts of his darkness. It always came back to _that_ \- to _Her_ \- in the end, he supposed.

"Y'know, I think-- not that I'm trying to speak for Her, or anything... but I think the reason She always let you stay on your bullshit all this time was 'cause of what you did at the Garden."

"How do you mean, love?"

Crowley moved his hand up to play with the knot of the tie while he spoke. "Well, you were s'posed to be looking after Adam and Eve. After I did my thing and they left to go out into that new and scary world, you gave 'em a fucking flaming sword to keep 'em safe. 'S the best you could've done for means of protection. They were going to find their own way, and that was the most you could do to keep looking after them. Think that's when She decided She loved you most and She wouldn't interfere with you. Lot more interesting for Her that way, innit?"

"I suppose you may be right."

"Well, could be, couldn't be. Hard to tell, y'know."

"Indeed." Seeing the gap that was left open to put a lid back on that subject, he decided to switch gears to a little check in. "And how are you finding... the new arrangement? Still alright?" He asked, gently pulling up some of Crowley's hair and then letting it slip from his fingers again, watching as it fell back into place.

Crowley wasn't totally sure how he felt about the phrasing, but let it roll off his back, because he was sure Aziraphale didn't mean it as any more than an innocuous descriptor, and he didn't want to pick at every little thing. "I haven't changed my mind, if that's what you're asking."

"I didn't think that you had. Surely you would have told me, if so." 

"Yeah, I would."

"Right. I've just wondered how you've been getting on, I suppose. You haven't mentioned anything."

"Not really anything to mention, 's all." Crowley shrugged. "'M not sitting around being weird all day, or something. I keep busy with this and that."

"That phrasing implies that you sit around 'being weird' for some part of the day, at least."

"Well, yeah. I _am_ weird, if you hadn't noticed. I'm a demon that's arse over applecart in love with an angel, to begin with. Should I keep going, or is that enough?"

That made Aziraphale snort, and he shook his head, but he still took Crowley's point. "Well, if that's the case, is there anything else you'd like to discuss with me, to that end?"

"Nah, not really. Nothing in particular. I mean... unless you wanna hear me go on about how much I liked it, again."

"Well, I certainly wouldn't mind." Aziraphale laughed. "I would always welcome you to give me more insight on _what_ you liked. The more I know, the better I can make it for you. No detail is too small."

"Mm. Yeah, I should. I want you to know. It sounds kinda strange for me to say this, but it was a real joy for me, just watching you get into this, let alone thinking about what you actually _did_. I know it's the whole point of it, but I can't get over how _caring_ you were. I mean, you're already really caring when we have 'conventional' sex, but... I dunno, it was different. Like something new came out in you-- or, well, not that, exactly... like you hit a new level with it, more like."

"You are my precious darling, a treasure that _must_ be handled with care." 

Crowley heard it, what he was _actually_ saying, right there in the tone of his voice. Aziraphale wasn't in any way calling him fragile. It was his intent to right the wrongs done to Crowley - by himself _and_ by others - by showing him he was worthy of far more than that.

"I want you to _always_ know your worth. I enjoy cherishing you, whenever and however I can. You are worthy of every single syllable of praise that I can give you, and you always have been. It was only to my own detriment that I wouldn't allow myself to look upon that truth any sooner than I did."

Crowley felt his cheeks heat, and buried his face into Aziraphale's chest. "Gosh, Angel."

Aziraphale smiled at that, angling his head to press a kiss against the crown of Crowley's, then he buried his nose into his hair and hummed in content. The gesture was tender on a near devastating level.

His instinct, as a being literally composed of love and grace, easily gifted him _so many_ alternative methods of saying 'I love you' that he could use more effectively than simply speaking the words - far _deeper_ expressions, ones that could hit on a molecular level. 

Whether they involved the physical or the mental, their power simply couldn't be denied at this point.

After all, these were the things that had lifted so much weight, they'd moved proverbial mountains; they were the ways that had been capable of convincing Crowley - one time use, disposable Crowley - that he actually meant something, and it had gone further than that. 

They'd helped to show him that he could be considered worth having around, that Aziraphale _wanted_ him around. They could even make him feel like was the _only_ thing in the universe that mattered to Aziraphale. They could help him fight off his stupid brain when it tried to bring up the hard times as evidence that the sweetness of post-Armageddon life was a sham.

They were a main ingredient in that balm that was slowly strengthening and healing Crowley - mending a heart that had been broken for several thousand years.

He knew... he _knew_ every single one of them was real - it was holding onto that conviction that was the challenge sometimes. But he could, he knew he could.

He believed in them, and that was everything to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time I'll have something a bit higher in temperature for you :P  
Hopefully we can also get back up from a ONCE A MONTH posting  
That feels atrocious to me and I will do my best to fix it because you are all lovely and deserve the effort
> 
> As always you can come chat with me on tumblr [here](https://cocolinears.tumblr.com)!


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